














































































































THE GOLDEN GOBLET 






“ Is this thy gift to the king ? ” 





THE 


J 

GOLDEN GOBLET 

AND OTHER STORIES 


BY 

JAY T. STOCKING 



THE PILGRIM PRESS 

BOSTON NEW YORK CHICAGO 


. % ‘ 



COPYRIGHT, I914 
BY LUTHER H. CARY 



THE- PLIMPTON* PRESS 
NORWOOD* UASS'U'S'A 


OCT 30 1914 

, A 

©Cl. A 3881 6 5 


TO THE 

BOYS AND GIRLS 

OF 

NEWTONVILLE, MASSACHUSETTS 
WHO HEARD THESE STORIES 


4 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

The Golden Goblet 1 

The Spirits of Spring 19 

The White Lily (An Easter Story) .... 35 

The Royal Engine 49 

The Snowball that Didn’t Melt .... 59 

Boniface and Keep-It-All 75 

Mrs. Gray’s Family . 93 

Much and More 119 

Felix, the Wise Man 137 


vii 



J 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


“Is this thy gift to the king?” . . . Frontispiece ^ 

“ In the yellow autumn they had their fling 

In the mellow light of the moon” . Facing page 22 

The train started, the king swung on board . . 56 

“Why, Mr. Wise-and-Wonder Man, is it you?” . 96 



The Golden Goblet 


The Golden Goblet 


T was the night before Christ- 
mas. 

Isn’t it funny that so many 
stories begin just like that? 

It was snapping cold out 
on the veranda, and it was 
snapping hot in the fireplace, before which 
the family were gathered. 

“ Father, tell us a story,” said the ten- 
year-old. 

“Yes, a new one,” said his sister. 

“A new one?” asked the father, with a 
puzzled look on his face, “I think I have told 
you all the stories that I ever knew. I have 
told you about the Golden Fleece, and the 
Golden Egg, and the Golden Apple, and the 
Golden Horse, and the Golden Goblet.” 

“No, you never told us about the Golden 
Goblet.” 

“Haven’t I? Well, then, I will tell you 
about it.” 



4 THE GOLDEN GOBLET 

“When did it happen, Father?” 

“Oh, ever and ever so long before I was a 
little boy.” 

“Is it true?” 

“Just as true as — preaching.” 

“Ever and ever so long before I was a 
little boy, there was a king by the name of 
Saxon, who lived in Saxon Land. He was 
tall and straight and strong and handsome 
and fair, as the king of Saxon Land should 
be, and his blue eyes looked out, gentle and 
mild over his full beard, as the summer moon 
looks out over the tops of the forest trees. 

“Years before, when King Saxon was 
Prince Saxon, he had a teacher, and that 
teacher’s name was Martin von Hove (Huv). 
Martin was a very wise man. He taught 
the prince what was in the books, and he 
taught him more. He taught him how he 
ought to live, how he ought to spend his 
money, and how he ought to give it away; 
and that was very necessary, because the 
prince had much to spend and much to give 
away. Martin taught him very many wise 
sayings and proverbs. I remember only two 
of them: ‘The gladdest gift is the biggest 


THE GOLDEN GOBLET 5 

gift/ and ‘Love turns the gift to gold.’ 
Martin’s maxims, as they were called, be- 
came known throughout the court. 

“Now, Prince Saxon was devoted to his 
teacher, Martin von Hove, until one unlucky 
day when Martin rebuked him for something 
that he had said or done; and then the 
prince, in hot anger, with the consent of his 
father, cruelly dismissed his old teacher from 
court. 

“Martin lived for a time in lodgings near 
by, hoping that the prince would get over 
his anger and invite him back. But as the 
weeks passed by and grew into months, and 
the prince did not repent and invite him 
back, Martin removed to the most distant 
town on the edge of the King’s domain, and 
there he founded a little school, in which he 
taught the village boys and girls. He taught 
them just the same wise things that he used 
to teach the prince — how they should live, 
how they should spend their money, and how 
they should give it away. 

“By and by, there came to him a little son 
of his own. He called him Ludwig, — Lud- 
wig von Hove. Martin took especial pains 
with his own child. He taught him what 


THE GOLDEN GOBLET 


was in the books, and he taught him more — 
how he should spend his money, and how he 
should give it away. And this was very 
necessary, because he had so little to spend 
and so little to give away. The home was 
very bare, the table did not have very much 
on it, and they never had more than a few 
coins at a time, to keep or to spend. There 
was one maxim in particular which Martin 
taught little Ludwig, and in order that the 
boy might remember it better he put it in 
the form of a rhyme: 

4 Remember the saying of long ago, 

The wise man taught of old: 

Love turns the gift to gold , you know. 

Love turns the gift to gold' 

44 At length, Martin grew really homesick 
for a sight of Prince Saxon, who had now 
become King Saxon; so he removed back 
again to the city of the king, and took 
some poor lodgings just outside the city gate. 

44 Martin had long ago forgiven King 
Saxon, and in all the stories of the court 
which he had told little Ludwig he had 
spoken only of the good things which the 


THE GOLDEN GOBLET 


7 


prince had said and done; so Ludwig had 
learned to admire the king very much. 

4 ‘One day as Ludwig stood at the street 
corner, dressed in his shabby little coat, the 
king passed by and Ludwig saluted him. 
The king turned, bowed and smiled. Then 
Ludwig loved King Saxon with all his heart. 
And it was very well, for King Saxon was 
loved of all his people; he had grown to be so 
generous and true and kind and just a king. 

“Not long after, the king announced that 
he was going away for a long holiday across 
the sea, and he proclaimed a public day at 
court, on which his subjects might come and 
pay their respects and say their farewells. 
Ludwig asked permission to go and gained it. 

“But what should he take to the king? 
Ludwig knew very well that, though it was 
not necessary, it was very courteous for one 
to take a gift to the king when he called 
upon him. But what could Ludwig give to 
a king? 

“I have only one small coin, Father/ said 
he. ‘What can I buy with that that is fit 
to give to the king?’ 

“Remember, Ludwig: “The gladdest gift 
is the biggest gift.” 


8 


THE GOLDEN GOBLET 


Remember the saying of long ago , 

The wise man taught of old ; 

Love turns the gift to gold , you kno,w, 
Love turns the gift to gold . 9 

“Ludwig must have looked into every 
shop window in that city, and must have 
learned by heart everything there was in 
every shop window, so often did he look 
through those windows to see what he could 
buy with his one small coin. And the more 
he looked, the more difficult it was to decide 
what to buy; and, as often happens when 
one looks so long to buy the proper thing, he 
bought what seemed a very strange thing — 
a little tin cup. It was a bright tin cup, 
however, and it had a picture of the king 
upon the outside. It pleased Ludwig, and 
Ludwig thought it would please the king. 
Then, too, Ludwig was just young and simple 
enough to think that perhaps the king would 
grow thirsty upon his long journey, and that 
he would take a drink from the little tin 
cup. 

“Ludwig took a little piece of paper and 
wrote on it; 


THE GOLDEN GOBLET 


9 


‘To the King , with my love , 

From Ludwig von Hove ,’ 

and put that inside the tin cup. Then he 
wrapped it up in a piece of brown paper, 
put it in his pocket, and went to the palace. 

“When he reached the palace he saw great 
lords and ladies, clad in gay and costly 
clothes, walking up the white marble steps 
that led to the great house. The guards 
looked scornfully at the shabby little lad as 
he climbed the steps, walked between them, 
and passed through the door which led into 
the great reception hall. 

“Ludwig had never seen anything so 
beautiful in all his life. The floor was as 
white as snow, the walls were covered with 
tapestries, the windows were hung with 
purple curtains. At the end of the hall, upon 
his throne, which was covered with purple 
fringed with gold, sat the king. He was clad 
in a purple robe that was bordered with gold. 
Beside him stood his bodyguard, his servants, 
and his messengers. At the right stood a 
herald, at the left was a clerk, and by the 
side of the clerk was a scribe. 

“As the people passed by, the herald 


10 THE GOLDEN GOBLET 

announced their names, and the clerk re- 
ceived and announced their gifts. To each 
gift was attached a little card, on which 
were written the name of the giver and 
some words of greeting or petition; and 
you could see by what was written on the 
cards that many made their gifts hoping 
they would receive something from the king 
in return. These cards it was the business 
of the scribe to read to the king. So, as the 
people passed by, the herald announced their 
names, the clerk announced their gifts, and 
the scribe read their cards to the king. 

44 There were a great many who passed by. 

44 4 Lord Wantmore,’ announced the herald. 

44 4 A silken purse,’ said the clerk. 

44 And the scribe read to the king: 

44 4 For the King's return I will 'patiently 
wait; 

Perhaps he will give me a larger estate .’ 

44 4 Sir Seekfavor,’ announced the herald. 

44 4 A silver salver,’ said the clerk. 

44 And the scribe read from the written 
card: 

44 4 From the King , of course I seek no re- 
ward; 


THE GOLDEN GOBLET 


11 


But perhaps he would like to make me a 
lord. 9 

“‘Lady Lovelooks, 5 announced the herald. 
“‘A jeweled matchbox, 5 said the clerk. 
“And the scribe read: 

“‘7 have many hopes , but greatest of all 
Is to dance some day with the King 
at the ball 9 

“‘Mistress Fondmother, 5 announced the 
herald. 

“‘A carven shield, 5 said the clerk. 

“And the scribe read: 

“‘A humble request I send with this card , 
That my sons might serve on the body- 
guard. 9 

“‘Mr. Richfellow, 5 announced the herald. 
“‘A gilded punch-bowl, 5 said the clerk. 
“And the scribe read: 

“ ‘ When the King returns from over sea , 

I hope he will remember me. 9 

“There were so many people in the line 
that I cannot mention the names of all or 
remember their gifts. It was plain to be 
seen that the king grew very weary; and 
when the very end of the line came, and 


12 THE GOLDEN GOBLET 

Ludwig at the end, the king was talking to 
one of his messengers at his side. He did 
not see Ludwig as he passed by. The herald 
looked haughtily over the head of the shabby 
lad and did not take the trouble to announce 
his name. The clerk did not proclaim his 
gift; he did not even hand it to the scribe. 
He took it and tossed it carelessly to the 
serving man who stood behind him. 

“Ludwig’s heart was nearly broken. The 
herald had not announced his name. The 
clerk had not announced his gift. It had 
not even been given to the scribe, and the 
king would never see it. It had been tossed 
away to be forgotten. And, worst of all, 
the king had not even seen him as he passed 
by. His first thought was to rush from the 
room as fast as he could, but it was so grand 
a place that it fascinated him, and he stayed 
and looked around at the beautiful hall, 
gazed at the king, and listened to the grand 
lords and ladies as they talked. 

“When the king saw that the line had 
passed by and that there were no more 
people to follow, he rose and spoke a few 
words to his subjects. He wished them 
great joy, health, and happiness while he 


THE GOLDEN GOBLET 


13 


was over sea. He would be glad to greet 
them upon his return, he said. 

“‘A cup!’ called he to the messenger, that 
he might drink their health. 

“The serving man brought him a tray 
with a goblet on it. The king took it care- 
lessly, then looked at it in amazement. 
It was the most beautiful golden goblet that 
he had ever seen. It could not be his. He 
had no goblet like that, — yet there was his 
picture on the outside of it. He was puzzled. 
He turned to the serving man for explana- 
tion. 

“‘Whence got you this?’ 

“‘The gift of one of the guests, Your 
Majesty.’ 

“‘What might be his name?’ 

“‘Ludwig, Your Majesty, I think. Your 
Majesty will find it inside the goblet.’ 

“The king removed a piece of paper upon 
which were written the words: 

‘ To the King , with my love , 

From Ludwig von Hove . 9 

He nodded to the herald, and the herald 
proclaimed in a loud voice: ‘Ludwig von 
Hove! Let him step before the king.’ 


14 


THE GOLDEN GOBLET 


“The lords and ladies looked about excitedly, 
curious to see the magnificent man who had 
presented so costly a gift. But no one stirred. 

“The king nodded again to the herald. 
A second time the herald announced: ‘Lud- 
wig von Hove, or his servant! Let him step 
before the king.’ 

“The eyes of all the lords and ladies were 
held so high that they did not see little 
Ludwig until he was fairly before the throne. 
How small and shabby he looked as he 
stood there before the great tall king, clad 
in his robe of purple and gold. 

Ludwig was frightened. 

“‘What is thy name?’ said the King, sure 
that he was a servant. 

“‘Ludwig von Hove, your Majesty.’ 

“‘Ludwig von Hove. And is this thy 
gift to the King?’ 

“‘No, Your Majesty. There is some mis- 
take. My gift was a little tin cup, just a 
little one, — a bright, shiny one.’ 

“The king turned to his serving man 
again for explanation. 

“‘It is the same, Your Majesty. I re- 
ceived it from the hand of the clerk, who 
took it from the hand of this youth.’ 


THE GOLDEN GOBLET 


15 


“ Ludwig was now certain that something 
must be wrong and was greatly troubled. 

“‘Thou sayest thy name is Ludwig von 
Hove?’ asked the king, slowly. 

“‘Yes, Your Majesty.’ 

“‘And thy father’s name?’ 

“‘Martin von Hove, Your Majesty.’ 

“‘Martin von Hove,’ repeated the king, 
a look of pleasure and surprise in his face. 

“‘And his trade?’ 

“‘He is a teacher, Your Majesty.’ 

“‘Where does he live?’ 

“‘Outside the King’s Gate, Your Majesty.’ 

“The king turned to his messenger. 

“‘Send for him at once. Say to him that 
the king commands him to come. Make 
haste.’ 

“‘And thou sayest,’ said the king, turn- 
ing again to Ludwig, ‘ that it was a tin cup 
thou didst give to the scribe?’ 

“‘A little tin cup, Your Majesty.’ 

“‘And didst thou write these words: 

“ To the King , with my love , 

From Ludwig von Hove." 

And didst thou put them inside the cup?’ 

“‘I did, Your Majesty.’ 


16 


THE GOLDEN GOBLET 


“The king rubbed his hand over his fore- 
head as if trying to remember something. 
Then he looked as if he had remembered, 
and repeated slowly, for he had not heard 
the words for twenty years: 

' Remember the saying of long ago , 

The wise man taught of old , 

Love turns the gift to gold , you know , 
Love turns the gift to gold . 9 

“T understand/ said he. Tt is plain. 
Thy father taught me this many years ago.’ 

“The messenger returned bringing Martin 
with him — The king gave Martin his hand, 
and spoke to him gravely and tenderly. 

“'Behold/ said he, 'the wisest man I have 
yet found in my realm.’ 

“Then the king gave command that Ludwig 
should be made the king’s cup-bearer, and 
his father should be appointed the teacher 
of his own young Prince. 

“Ludwig served the king faithfully until 
the king grew to be a very old man. He 
often carried to the king this golden goblet 
which he had given to the king, and from 
it the king frequently drank. 

“When the king grew to be a very old 


THE GOLDEN GOBLET 


17 


man he called Ludwig to him one day and 
gave him the golden goblet. He might 
keep it as long as he lived, and then give it 
to his children, and his children’s children, 
that they might know how much the king 
had loved their father and their grandfather. 
Upon one side of the cup the king wrote 
these words, cut them deep in the gold, 
‘To Ludwig, from Saxon, King’; and upon 
the other side was the one line, 

‘ Love turns the gift to gold .’” 

The father paused. The children’s eyes 
were full of wonder. 

“Father, how did the tin cup turn to 
gold?” asked the ten-year-old. 

“Well,” said the father, “that is a mys- 
tery. Ask the minister.” 


< 



The Spirits of Spring 

S 



j 















The Spirits of Spring 



ELL me a story, Uncle.” 

“Tell you a story? What 


about?” 

“Oh, ’most anything.” 

. “’Most anything? Well, 


’Most Anything had a wife. 


Her name was Anything, and Anything and 
’Most Anything had six children. Their 
names were Hope, and Fear, and Help, and 
Fret, and Hop-skip, and Feel-bad. The six 
children were all spirits, and so of course 
their father and mother must have been 
spirits, too. 

“One of the parents — I don’t know which 
one — was cheery and gay; and the other 
one — I don’t know which — was gloomy 
and sad; and that is how it happened that 
half of the six children were cheery and gay, 
and half of them were gloomy and sad. 


THE GOLDEN GOBLET 


4 ‘The cheery and gay ones were Hope and 
Help and Hop-skip. Hope had bright eyes. 
Help had quick fingers, and Hop-skip had 
nimble feet. And they all had red jackets, 
red caps, and black, red-topped boots. 

“The three children that were gloomy 
and sad were Fear and Fret and Feel-bad. 
Fear had a pale face, Fret had a puckered 
mouth, and Feel-bad had weepy eyes. He 
was always crying. They had gray jackets, 
gray caps, and black, gray-topped boots. 

“Now, these six spirits, being out-of-door 
spirits, were out in the fields and woods 
from the time when the snow went till the 
time when the snow came. 

“ They played in the fluttering leaves of spring , 
They danced in the flowers of June; 

In the yellow autumn they had their fling 
In the mellow light of the moon . 

“In the summer they slept in the dew- 
drops. In the fall they slept on the white 
frost. But when the white frost became 
too thick, and the winds became too nippy, 
and November became cold, one could find 
them talking together about some nice, snug, 
cozy place to sleep. So on a very cold, 



“In the yellow autumn they had their fling in the melloiv 

light of the moon” 





THE SPIRITS OF SPRING 


November evening we find them under 
a hemlock bush by a deep, quiet pool, 
talking with chattering teeth as to where 
they shall spend the night. 

“‘I say,’ said Hop-skip, ‘let’s dive into 
the pool. It’s warmer in the water than it 
is outside, and there’s a nice, soft, muddy 
bottom to sleep on.’ 

“So splash, splash, splash, splash, splash, 
splash, they dived down into the deep, still 
pool, and lay quietly upon the nice, soft, 
muddy bottom. 

“They had not slept very well for the last 
few nights because it had been rather cold, 
and so this night, on the nice, soft bed on 
the muddy bottom, they slept and they 
slept and they slept. 

“When they woke up in the morning they 
rubbed their eyes, and, to their great dismay, 
they saw that in the night the pool had 
frozen over, and try as they would they 
could not get out. It was rather discon- 
certing, to be sure. Fear and Fret and Feel- 
bad were frantic. 

“‘What shall we do?’ said Fear. 

“‘We’ll never get out,’ said Fret. 

“‘We’ll die in the mud,’ said Feel-bad. 


24 


THE GOLDEN GOBLET 


“So Fear feared, and Fret fretted, and 
Feel-bad felt bad. 

“Well, it was rather fearful, even to 
the red jackets, but if they were very much 
frightened they did not show it. Hope 
hoped, and Help helped, and Hop-skip hop- 
skipped. 

“‘Oh, it’s not so bad,’ said Hope. * 

“‘We’ll find a way out/ said Help. 

“ ‘Let’s have some fun to pass the time away/ 
said Hop-skip. And he put on his skates. 

“‘Where are you going to skate?’ growled 
Feel-bad. ‘You can’t get on top of the ice.’ 

“‘Skate on the under side’; said Hop- 
skip; ‘just as good and ever so much 
smoother.’ Of course spirits can skate just 
as well upside down as right side up, and 
so in no time the red jackets were off safely 
over the ice. 

“But nothing could induce Fear and Fret 
and Feel-bad to join them. They sat there 
in the soft mud with their chins in their 
hands, and their hands on their knees. 

6 6 They snuffled and snuffed and sniveled , 
Wiped this and the other eye. 

They droned and drearily driveled , 

And talked of the days that were by. 


THE SPIRITS OF SPRING 25 

“But not so the red jackets. 

“ They fracas sed and frisked and frolicked , 
Had too much fun to be glum. 

They ran and they raced and they rollicked , 
And planned for the days to come. 

“One day, as they were skating, there 
was a crack and a loud crash. Hop-skip 
had broken through the ice and fallen up. 
Hope and Help soon followed him. They, 
too, fell up. 

“The crack caused even Fear and Fret and 
Feel-bad to look up. They had sat so long 
on the bottom that their joints were stiff 
and they were all but stuck fast in the mud. 
But they managed to get free, swim to the 
surface and jump out. They really were 
none the worse for wear, but they all knew 
that they had lost the fun of a whole winter’s 
skating as they had sat there on the bottom 
of the pool. 

“The red jackets and the gray jackets 
soon got together, all of them; and while 
none was harmed, they all agreed that they 
would not again upon a cold November night 
choose to sleep on the soft bottom of a deep 
pool. 


THE GOLDEN GOBLET 


“The snow had gone, and so they lived 
out in the woods and fields again. 

“ They played in the fluttering leaves of spring. 
They danced in the flowers of June. 

In the yellow autumn they had their fling 
In the mellow light of the moon. 

“During the summer they slept in the 
dewdrops, and when fall came they slept on 
the white frost. But when the white frost 
grew too thick, and the winds began to nip, 
and November became cold, you could find 
them huddled together talking about a nice, 
snug, warm place to sleep. And so upon a 
cold November evening we find the six 
of them sitting close together upon a 
clothes-line over the tulip bed, talking with 
chattering teeth as to where they might 
spend the night. 

“‘I say,’ said Hop-skip, ‘let’s dive down 
into the tulips. There are just six, one 
apiece.’ 

“So pliff, pliff, pliff, pliff, pliff, pliff, they 
all dived down into the tulips and curled up 
snug and warm in the tulip bulbs. 

“They had not slept very well fo'r the last 


THE SPIRITS OF SPRING 27 

few nights because it had been cold, and so 
tonight they slept and they slept and they 
slept and they slept. 

When they awoke, to their great dismay 
they found that cold frost had come during 
the night, the ground was frozen stiff, and 
there was at least two feet of snow above 
them. It was rather an unpleasant pros- 
pect, to be sure! Fear and Fret and Feel- 
bad were terribly alarmed. 

“‘What shall we do?’ said Fear. 

“‘We’ll never get out,’ said Fret. 

“‘It’s worse than the mud,’ said Feel-bad. 

“So Fear feared, Fret fretted, and Feel- 
bad felt bad. 

“But if the red jackets were at all fright- 
ened, they did not show it. Hope hoped, 
and Help helped, and Hop-skip hop-skipped. 

‘“Who’s afraid?’ asked Hope. 

“‘We’ll get out yet,’ said Help. 

“‘Let’s get busy to pass the time away/ 
shouted Hop-skip. 

“The rest all joined him; that is, all the 
red jackets; but nothing could persuade the 
gray jackets, Fear and Fret and Feel-bad, 
to do so. 


28 THE GOLDEN GOBLET 

“ They wept and they wailed and they worried 
Till each had a pain in the head. 

They moaned and they moped till they made 
themselves ill; 

All three of them fell sick abed . 

And in their bed they stayed, and talked 
about all their troubles. 

“But not so the red jackets. 

“ They were cheery and chipper from boot to 
crown , 

Right merry as you may surmise; 

They whooped and they hipped and they 
hopped up and down , 

For fun and the exercise . 

“But by hopping up and down for fun 
and the exercise they were doing something 
that even they did not realize. Each time 
one hopped up in his little bulb he struck his 
head against the ceiling, and every time he 
struck his head against the ceiling he pushed 
it up just a little, but he pushed it so little 
that he didn’t know he pushed it at all. 
So as day after day they whooped and hipped 
and hopped up and down, they kept pushing 
the roof of their house up a little higher and 
a little higher, and indeed they were well 


THE SPIRITS OF SPRING 


up in the air before they knew it. They 
did not know where they were until one 
day a little crack of light came in, so 
that each one of them could see that they 
were in a great, beautiful red chamber. The 
next day they were out, and as each one 
turned and looked behind he saw that his 
house was a beautiful, flaming red tulip. 

“‘Well, I see that the red tulips are up/ 
said the gardener. ‘But for the life of me 
I can not find the gray ones. I wonder what 
the matter can be.’ 

“ With that he took a spade and turned up 
the three gray tulips. 

“‘Humph! just what I thought — spoiled! 
Hadn’t life enough to come up. I never did 
have much faith in those gray tulips. The 
red ones for me!’ 

“Of course when the gardener put his 
spade into the ground and turned up the 
three tulips, Fret and Fear and Feel-bad 
tumbled out. They were none the worse 
for wear, but they felt much ashamed that 
they had not been able to come up like the 
red jackets; and when they heard the gar- 
dener say what he did, they walked away as 
if in disgrace. 


30 THE GOLDEN GOBLET 

“The gray jackets and the red jackets 
soon got together again, and they all agreed, 
though they were all now safe in springtime, 
that they never again would choose to spend 
the night in six tulip bulbs. 

The snow had gone, and so they were 
away again to the fields. 

“ They splayed in the fluttering leaves of spring , 

They danced in the flowers of June; 

In the yellow autumn they had their fling 

In the mellow light of the moon . 

“Upon the first very cold night of the 
autumn they fell to talking about where 
they should spend the winter. 

“‘I say,’ said Hop-skip, ‘let’s go to the 
land where it is always spring.’ 

“‘Who knows where it is?’ asked Fear. 

“‘The wild goose,’ answered Help. 

“‘Who’ll ask him?’ 

“‘I,’ said Hop-skip, who was always ready 
for errands. And so he asked the wild 
goose : 

“‘ Wild goose , wild goose , swift of wing , 
Tell me where is the Land of Spring ?’ 

“And the wild goose honked down, 


THE SPIRITS OF SPRING SI 

“‘Beyond the land where the north wind blows , 
Beyond the land where the white snow flies , 
Beyond the land where the icicle grows , 

Past Death-o 9 -Cold the Spring Land lies 9 

“ They walked and they walked and they 
walked, through the land where the north 
wind blew. Oh, how bitter the north wind 
blew! Fear feared, and Fret fretted, and 
Feel-bad felt bad. But Hope told Fear to 
cheer up, and Help took Fret by the hand, 
and Hop-skip took Feel-bad upon his back. 
And so they got past the land where the 
north wind blows. 

“They came to the land where the white 
snow flies. Oh, how the white snow did fly! 
Fear feared, and Fret fretted, and Feel-bad 
felt bad. But Hope told Fear to cheer up, 
and Help took Fret by the hand, and Hop- 
skip took Feel-bad upon his back, and so 
they got through the land where the white 
snow flies. 

“They came to the land where the icicle 
grows. There was a great precipice. Down 
that great precipice hung one long, white, 
shining icicle. Fear feared, and Fret fretted, 
and Feel-bad felt bad. 


THE GOLDEN GOBLET 


“'I never can climb it, 5 sighed Fear. 

‘“I’ll slide down sure,’ moaned Fret. 

‘“I’m always light-headed when I climb,’ 
groaned Feel-bad. 

“But Hope got out his little axe, and cut 
niches for their feet in the icicle. Help got 
out his rope, and Hop-skip seized his alpen- 
stock. In a short time all six were upon 
the top of the precipice beyond where the 
icicle grows. 

“Here, there was a little bare ground not 
so big as this room. No grass, no icicle, no 
snow. Only cold and stones and bones. 
Just beyond it was a great gray wall. A 
wall before them, a precipice behind them! 
In the wall there was a little narrow gate, 
and through the gate they could see the 
green grass and the sunlight, they could 
smell the flowers, and they could hear the 
bird songs; for there was the Land of Spring. 
But at the gate stood Death-o’-Cold. His 
head was a skull, he had long bony fingers, 
his teeth rattled, and the wind blew through 
his ribs. If he caught you with his bony 
fingers, he made you numb, and then he 
gnawed your bones. 

“They all were somewhat dismayed. Fear 


THE SPIRITS OF SPRING 


33 


and Fret and Feel-bad shook until their 
knees knocked together. Even Hope and 
Help and Hop-skip shuddered just a bit. 
But if they were much frightened they did 
not show it. Hope told Fear to cheer up; 
but beyond encouraging them the red jackets 
could do nothing for the gray jackets. There 
was just room in that gate for one at a time. 
Each one had to look out for himself. 

“Hope said, Til go first. Who’ll follow ? 5 

“Hope slipped through the fingers of 
Death-o’-Cold, Help dodged when Death-o’- 
Cold wasn’t looking, and Hop-skip leaped 
clean over his head. 

“Then upon a beautiful, silvery path, 
between rows of sweet-smelling flowers, and 
amid the song of birds, they walked up to 
the palace made of sunlight, dew-drops, and 
rainbows; and Hope, Help and Hop-skip 
always after lived in the palace in the Land 
of Spring.” 

“Did the gray jackets get in, Uncle?” 

“Of course not, boy. They did not have 
courage enough. They might have got in 
because Death-o’-Cold wasn’t so bad as he 
looked. But Fear did not dare to try, 
Fret fretted until he had a pain in the head 


34 


THE GOLDEN GOBLET 


and couldn’t see, and Feel-bad fainted dead 
away.” 

“Did the gray jackets die?” 

“Oh, no; spirits never die.” 

“They slid down the icicle, I suppose?” 

“I suppose so. They were better at slid- 
ing down than they were at climbing up, 
much better.” 

“Where do they live now?” 

“Oh, ’most anywhere. I thought I heard 
one of them around the house yesterday.” 


The White Lily 











The White Lily 

AN EASTER STORY 

IERE is an old legend that 
when Jesus on Easter Day 
walked from the tomb, Easter 
lilies sprang up in his foot- 
steps. I am going to tell 
you another story about the 
lilies which I think is just as true as that 
one. 

It was a morning in early spring in the 
old city of Jerusalem. The sun was shining, 
the birds were singing, the flowers were 
blooming; and nowhere in all the city was 
the grass greener or the leaves more glossy, 
or the birds more lovely, or the flowers 
gayer than in the garden of Joseph of 
Arimathsea, which lay toward the northern 
part of the city, just within the city limits. 
Beyond it a little way, almost hidden by the 
houses, was a hill which because of its 



38 


THE GOLDEN GOBLET 


peculiar shape and its steep, bony sides was 
called “The Skull.’’ 

It was a very gay week in Jerusalem, for 
it was the week of the greatest festival of all 
the year. People from all over Palestine 
were there to celebrate the national festival 
and keep the great feast with their friends 
and kinsmen. Although usually a very joy- 
ous week, this particular festival was much 
disturbed because of the presence in the city 
of a man called “The Galilean,” a teacher 
from the hill-country to the north. He did 
not teach just as the priests and scribes 
taught. Some of the people believed in him; 
others disliked him; some hated him and 
secretly or openly, wanted to be rid of him. 

But it was all quiet and lovely enough 
upon this early Friday morning out in the 
garden of Joseph of Arimathaea. The sky 
was clear with the exception of a little cloud, 
just tinged with dark red, which hung over 
the hill which was called “The Skull.” The 
garden was not very large but was very 
beautiful. It was varied. There were hills 
and hummocks and valleys; there were 
trees — the trim cedar, the slender poplar, 
the spreading sycamore. There were flowers 


THE WHITE LILY 


39 


— the white rose of Sharon, the purple iris 
and the red lily. Over at one side of the 
garden there was a wall of gray rock in 
which Joseph, the master, had just had 
built a new tomb in which some day he 
thought he might lie, right near the flowers 
which he loved. 

The morning shadows were still long and 
the dew was still on the grass when Nathan, 
the gardener, and his young son, Benjamin, 
came out with sickle and knife and spade to 
trim the grass, the flower beds and the 
walks between. Nathan was a solemn man, 
with seamed and careworn face. Benjamin 
was a lad just turning his teens, full of life 
and spirit. He had lately begun to learn 
the trade of his father, and now from morn- 
ing until night he and his father worked side 
by side in the garden, and as they worked 
they talked. Now they were spading the 
iris bed. 

“ Father,” asked Benjamin, “why is this 
called iris?” 

“Because it is iris, my son,” said Nathan 
gruffly, his good-nature not yet fully awake. 

Benjamin smiled but said nothing, for he 
understood his father. 


40 THE GOLDEN GOBLET 

Now they moved to the lily bed. 

“I suppose,” said Benjamin, looking up 
slyly under his hat, “ I suppose the lilies 
are just lilies, Father. We have only red 
lilies; why have we no white ones?” 

“They do not grow in this country, my 
son; they grow only to the north.” 

“Father, do the red lilies always come up 
the same shade?” asked Benjamin, not know- 
ing whether his question would be answered 
or not, after his experience with the iris. 

“Always the same shade, my son. Once 
a red lily, always a red lily.” 

“But here are certain ones that are redder 
than the others.” 

“It is an accident.” 

“But might we not take this light one and 
plant it and would there not come up 
other light ones and perhaps after a while 
we might have a white lily?” 

“Impossible, my son. My father, your 
grandfather, had a saying which he used of 
anything which he thought was most impos- 
sible — that it would happen when the sky 
turns green and the grass turns blue and the 
red lily comes up white. It is a strange 
saying; I do not know where he found it.” 


THE WHITE LILY 


41 


And now they were trimming the walk 
just in front of the new tomb. 

“Father, where do we go when we die?” 

“I do not know, my son.” 

“What do the priests and the scribes 
say?” 

“They are wise men; they say very little, 
my son. It is a dark subject. There are 
some who say we go nowhere.” 

“But we must go somewhere. Father. 
There must be a heaven, you know.” 

“So I thought, my son, when I was your 
age, but I have grown to doubt. I shall 
believe it when the sky turns green, when 
the grass turns blue and the red lily comes 
up white.” 

“But this man, The Galilean, teaches that 
we shall live hereafter, does he not?”_ 

“I do not know what he teaches. He is 
a strange fellow. They say that he is 
wicked; that he wants to be king; that he 
deceives the people.” 

“It is false, Father; he is a good man. I 
have seen him. On the first day of the week 
I saw him as he came into the city, when 
the crowds were shouting and singing and 
spreading their garments in the way. We 


42 ' THE GOLDEN GOBLET 

boys were waving palms, and he looked kind 
and gentle, not at all like a king, and the 
next day in the Temple when we were sing- 
ing, — the day he drove out the traders, — 
he put his hand on our heads and spoke 
kindly and asked what our names were and 
said he hoped that we would always remem- 
ber that day and be reverent in the house of 
God. He is not a wicked man; he is good.” 

“It may be, but only the ignorant and 
the poor are following him.” 

“But does not Joseph, our master, believe 
in him?” 

“I do not know; sometimes I think he 
does. Joseph is a righteous man but he is 
over cautious. If he believes in The Galilean 
let him be bold and say so. This man — , 
have you seen him since that second day?” 

“No, I have not seen him, Father, but I 
fear for his safety. I was in the city the 
day before yesterday and I saw one of his 
followers, the one with the black beard, you 
know, and the shaggy eyes. I never liked 
him. I saw him in the narrow street behind 
the palace talking with one of the priests, — 
that little one, you know, that always smiles, 
and looks at you with his ears. When they 


THE WHITE LILY 


43 


saw me they started, and yesterday when I 
was in the city a strange man asked me if 
we boys knew whether The Galilean was 
going to eat the great feast with his friends. 
I wonder why he asked me. I told Joel, 
the son of James. He said there was a 
conspiracy, and if he saw The Galilean when 
he came into the city he was going to tell 
him to beware. I fear some harm may 
come to him.” 

At that instant there was a hoarse sound 
of shouting that came from the direction of 
the city. Nearer and nearer it came and 
then there appeared the first of a strange 
procession. There were four soldiers, walk- 
ing two and two. Behind were three men 
with heavy timbers upon their shoulders. 
And then pressing close, crowding, jeering, 
came a great crowd of excited people. 

Nathan and Benjamin leaned upon their 
spades and looked. 

“An execution,” said Nathan, beckoning 
with his hand toward the hill. 

“It is The Galilean,” said Benjamin 
excitedly, “Father, that tall man in the 
middle, just before the other two is he. I 
told you so. They are going to kill him.” 


44 THE GOLDEN GOBLET 

The great crowd surged by the garden of 
Joseph of Arimathsea. Nathan and Ben- 
jamin dropped their spades where they stood, 
joined the crowd and were soon separated 
from each other. 

The terrible procession swept on up the 
hill that was called “The Skull.” Then the 
soldiers put The Galilean and two thieves 
upon the three crosses. The coarse, vulgar, 
brutal crowd closed in around. Not far 
away was a little group of boys, in the very 
centre of which was Benjamin. 

The boys told him in anger what had 
happened in the city. They had put an old 
purple robe upon The Galilean and they had 
made a crown out of small sticks and put it 
on his head and had made believe he was a 
king and they were his subjects. They 
had bowed down before him and one insult- 
ing fellow had put a stick in his hand and 
called it a sceptre, and then had torn the 
stick from his hand and struck him on 
the head with it; and one had spit upon 
him. 

As Benjamin listened, his face flushed and 
his teeth shut tight. The crosses were now 
up in their places. A rough man with 


THE WHITE LILY 


45 


coarse voice standing near shouted at The 
Galilean, “Aha, you saved others, save your- 
self and come down from the cross.” 

This was more than Benjamin could en- 
dure. He leaped out from the group of 
boys, his fists tight, his eyes aflame, his face 
white. 

“Shame,” he cried; “hold your speech.” 

“He is a blasphemer,” said the rough man. 

“He is no blasphemer; you are the blas- 
phemer. He is a good man.” 

With one heavy blow of his fist the 
ruffian struck Benjamin to the ground, where 
he lay, still and white. Nathan, who was 
standing a little distance away, heard the 
voice of his son and saw the blow. He 
rushed to the aid of the boy, picked him up 
tenderly and carried him away. 

Some time in the afternoon, when the color 
had come back to Benjamin’s cheeks, they 
talked of the morning. 

Nathan said to Benjamin, “It was a rash 
thing to do, lad, but it was the deed of a 
man.” 

It was a weird, wild afternoon. Just as 
the sun had reached its height, strange gray 


46 


THE GOLDEN GOBLET 


clouds began to gather. The sky seemed 
to turn green and the grass blue. 

The dusk was beginning to gather before 
Nathan and Benjamin had heart and strength 
to go out and take up the spades, which had 
lain so quiet in the garden all day, and re- 
sume their work. 

Soon they heard hushed voices and quiet 
steps coming near. It was Joseph, their 
master. With him were his rich friend and 
some strange women. Servants of Joseph 
were carrying the body of The Galilean. 
Joseph beckoned gravely to Nathan and 
Nathan beckoned to Benjamin; they opened 
the doors of the new tomb, and in it they 
laid the body of The Galilean, wrapped in 
linen and fragrant with spices. Joseph 
himself closed the door. 

Then they turned away. 

As they did so Benjamin heard one of the 
women say something about coming early 
the first day of the week. Then night fell 
and the quiet of the Jewish Sabbath. 

With the first rays of the sun on the first 
day of the week, Benjamin was up and away 
to the garden, but someone had been there 
before him. The doors of the tomb were 


THE WHITE LILY 


47 


open and women were standing near, amazed, 
and frightened. They told Benjamin strange 
things. The Galilean was not there in the 
tomb; an angel had said that he had risen. 
As they hastened away to tell their friends 
the strange news, Nathan drew near with his 
sickle and knife and spade to begin the day’s 
work. As he saw the doors of the tomb open, 
he was so startled that his sickle all but 
dropped from his hands. 

“What meaneth it, Benjamin?” said he. 
“Have they taken him away?” 

“He is risen; he is alive again,” said Ben- 
jamin. “The women said so; an angel told 
them.” 

“Nonsense! nonsense! I will believe such 
things when the sky turns green and the 
grass turns blue and the red lily comes up 
white.” 

“Father, look!” said Benjamin, pointing. 

At the corner of the tomb under the pop- 
lar tree, stood a lily, straight as a queen and 
white as the snow. 

“Wonderful, wonderful!” said Nathan. 
“The red lily has come up white. The story 
of the women is strange. But it must be so! 
It must be so!” 


48 


THE GOLDEN GOBLET 


Nathan and Benjamin soon joined the 
company of those who believed in the Gali- 
lean. None of all that company was more 
changed and none was more sure than 
Nathan that The Galilean lived and that he, 
too, was going to live forever and ever. The 
people wondered how it had all come about. 
Some said it was because of Joseph, their 
master; some said it was because of the 
brave deed of Nathan’s boy. Nathan him- 
self only said that he had been a changed 
man and his heart had been full of hope 
and joy, since the morning when the red lily 
came up white. 


The Royal Engine 


% 






























The Royal Engine 

NCE in the Land of Machine- 
dom there lived a famous 
tribe called the Locomos. 

They were a mighty people. 
Every man was a giant, 
stronger than Samson. He 
had arms and legs of iron, muscles and 
nerves of steel, and he never grew tired. He 
could run for hours and hours without once 
sitting down to catch his breath or rest his 
joints or even to take a drink. He had a 
round face, a low, dark brow, and one 
bright eye right in the middle of his forehead. 

Now this tribe was the mightiest and swift- 
est in all the land, and never feared a foe. 
Their country was serene and peaceful, so 
that the king felt free to go and come when 
he would. Each year at autumn time he 
and his nobles went far from the capital 
for weeks of sport and pleasure. And he 
was never disturbed by fears or evil tidings. 



52 


THE GOLDEN GOBLET 


But there came a year when he was dis- 
turbed. A messenger from the court came 
riding with all haste, breathless and anxious. 
The king must return at once! A new tribe 
had settled in the land, by the name of 
Automos. They, too, were a mighty folk 
and there was a great host of them. Like 
the Locomos they had arms and legs of iron, 
and muscles and nerves of steel, and like 
the Locomos they were swift and tireless. 
But instead of one huge eye, each Automo 
had four smaller ones, and some of the tribe 
had six, and they all made a frightful cough- 
cough-cough-cough-ing noise when they 
ran. 

“Make haste, Your Majesty!” cried the 
messenger. “They overrun the country, 
they are storming the castle and will surely 
take it, if Your Majesty be not at hand!” 

Then the king was wild with excitement. 
He assembled his faithful nobles and told 
them the fearful story. He bade them make 
ready with all possible speed and it was not 
long, you may be sure, before the king’s 
beautiful train, all polished and shining, was 
ready for the journey to the city. 

But there was no engine. 


THE ROYAL ENGINE 


53 


The king went himself to the roundhouse 
where the engines were kept. He selected 
one of the largest and strongest of all and 
addressed him: 

66 1 look for an engine , strong and true , 

To take my train to the city. Will you?” 

The big engine looked at the great train 
with his one sleepy eye; then slowly and 
heavily he said: “Too big.” 

Wasn’t the king disgusted! But then he 
was too wise to waste any words in angry 
speech. He simply looked sharply at the 
engine and stepped quickly to the next 
big engine, standing idly by. To him he 
made the same speech: 

“I look for an engine , strong and true, 

To take my train to the city . Will you?” 

The second big engine glanced down the 
track toward the city as if to measure it 
with his sleepy eye, then slowly grunted in 
reply: “Too far.” 

Wasn’t the king disgusted! But then he 
was too wise to waste any words in angry 
speech. He simply looked sharply at the 
engine and stepped quickly to one more big 


54 


THE GOLDEN GOBLET 


engine that stood near by in his stall. To 
him he made the same appeal: 

“I look for an engine , strong and true , 

To take my train to the city . Will you?” 

The third big engine opened his one big 
eye, then lazily replied: 4 ‘Too tired.” 

Oh! wasn’t the king thoroughly disgusted! 
But then, as I said before, he was too wise 
to waste any words in angry speech. He 
simply looked very sharply at the big engine 
and then looked about the roundhouse. 
What was he to do? There was no other 
engine there that looked big enough and 
strong enough to carry the train to the city. 
There was only one engine left and he was 
a little one. But there was nothing for the 
king to do but to ask him. So the king 
stepped up to him and said as he had done 
three times before: 

“J look for an engine , strong and true , 

To take my train to the city. Will you?” 

Quick as a flash the little engine replied 
in a sharp hissing voice: “Yes-s-s S-s-ir.” 

And in scarcely more time than it takes 
to tell the tale he had run out of the round- 


THE ROYAL ENGINE 


55 


house, passed the switch, and backed down 
to the waiting train, ready for the start. 

He looked very small for so long and heavy 
a train and the king was by no means sure 
that he could trust him to reach the city. 
As he was tugging hard to start the train, 
the king could not resist asking him: 

“Can you do it, little engine?” 

For reply the train started, the king 
swung on board and he could hear the 
engine puffing out the words: 

“ I’LL TRY ! — I’LL TRY ! — I’LL-TRY ! 
THINK-I-CAN! THINK-I-CAN ! THINK 
-I-C AN ! SURE I can! SURE I 
can! SURE I can! It’s easy , it’s easy , 
its easy .” 

And away he went off to the city. 

The little engine was swifter and stronger 
than he looked and it was not many hours 
before the king and his troops were in the 
city and in time to save their castle from 
the Automos. 

After several days the king held court 
and commanded that the four engines be 
summoned. One by one they were ordered 


56 THE GOLDEN GOBLET 

to stand before him for judgment. As each 
of the three big engines took his place in 
front of the king, the king looked at him 
most sternly and severely, and spoke words 
to him that would make anything but a 
steam engine tremble. 

As punishment for the engine which had 
complained that the king’s train was “Too 
big,” the king gave command that ever 
afterward he should be compelled to draw 
the heaviest freight trains on the line and 
that he should never draw a passenger 
train. 

As punishment for the engine who had 
replied that it was “Too far” to the city, 
the king gave command that never after- 
ward should he be allowed to leave the yard. 
He should be used only as a switch engine 
in preparing trains for nobler engines to 
haul. As to the engine who had lazily 
replied that he was “Too tired” to carry the 
king, it was decreed that he should at once 
be torn limb from limb and thrown upon 
the scrap heap, where all tired engines go. 

Then the little engine was brought before 
him. In the presence of all the company 
the king told the story of the brave way in 



“ The train started , the king swung on board” 





THE ROYAL ENGINE 


57 


which this engine had carried him to the 
city in time to save his realm. 

When the king had finished, and all the 
company had applauded, the command was 
given that the little engine should be adorned 
with gold and silver, that henceforth he 
should have the honor of carrying the king, 
and that upon his shining side should be 
inscribed the name by which he should 
now and forever after be known — THE 
ROYAL ENGINE. 


The Snowball That 
DM t Melt 



The Snowball That 
Didn't Melt 


“Biff! 

“Flick! 

“Swat! 

“Smack! 

“Biff, biff! 

“Flick, flick! 

“Swat, swat! 

“Smack, smack!" 

T was a fine day in midwinter. 
The sun was just warm and 
bright enough to make the 
snow pack easily. The boys 
in the neighborhood were 
having the liveliest kind of a 
snowball fight. So that is why there was 
this — 



62 THE GOLDEN GOBLET 

“Biff! 

“Flick! 

“Swat! 

“Smack! 

And this — 

“Biff, biff! 

“Flick, flick! 

“Swat, swat! 

“Smack, smack! 

Everything ends sometime. So this snow- 
ball fight did. One side or the other won, — 
I have forgotten which. The boys at the 
little brown-shingled house, where the fight 
took place, became very busy making balls 
for the next day’s battle. You could 
hear the “pat — pat, pat — pat,” as they 
rounded and packed the snowballs in their 
cold, red hands. 

When they became quite satisfied that they 
had enough on hand for a lively battle, they 
piled the balls up in a neat pyramid just 
under the edge of the veranda, and went 
off to look for something new to do. 

Then the snowballs fell to talking, — if it 
is true that snowballs talk. 

“I wonder what they are going to do with 


THE SNOWBALL THAT DIDN’T MELT 63 

us,” said the top one. “ I know what I’d 
like to do. I’d like to hit the nose of that 
rough, freckle-faced boy who hit the nose of 
the boy who made me.” 

“I know what I’d like,” said the second. 
“I’d like to go right through the window of 
Old Grampy’s house. Wouldn’t he sput- 
ter!” 

“Oh! What’s the fun in teasing a poor old 
man?” said another. “I’ll tell you what 
Fd like. Fd like to hit the minister right 
in the middle of the back and see what he 
would do.” 

“Hit the minister in the back!” said a 
lively-looking chap down in the middle of 
the pile. “Be a sport! I’d like to knock 
the policeman’s hat off and see him chase 
the boy that threw me. That would be 
fun.” 

It was, you see, a very bold and mis- 
chievous lot of balls, if one may judge from 
their big talk. And so it was probably well 
for the peace of the neighborhood that the 
evening had scarcely fallen when, through 
a sudden change in the weather, snow, too, 
began to fall. All night long the snow fell, 
thicker and faster, thicker and faster. The 


64 THE GOLDEN GOBLET 

wind rose and piled it in stacks. The house 
was banked to the windows, the veranda 
was heaped up high. The snowballs were 
buried deep, — so deep that the boys forgot 
them. It was spring before the thick cover- 
ing of snow was melted enough so that they 
could see the light of day. 

It was a long time after this, when there 
came a day which meant much for at least 
one of that heap of snowballs. 

The sun was bright and hot; the grass 
was beginning to show green. The snow had 
all gone except in a few places on the cold 
side of the houses and under veranda 
edges. The snowballs were still piled neatly 
in the pyramid but they looked as if they 
might tumble down almost any minute. Al- 
though it was cool in their shady spot, every 
one of them was perspiring and several of 
them looked thin and pale. I fancy they 
had felt the heat, for all their lives they had 
been accustomed to a cooler climate. 

As they were busy mopping their brows, 
and sighing for cooler weather they heard a 
sound, between a sigh and a faint moan. 
They heard it again and again. It was above 
their heads, out on the lawn, and not far 


THE SNOWBALL THAT DIDN’T MELT 65 


away. It seemed to be in or around a shrub 
or bush, with a tall slender stem and a 
branching top. 

“ What’s that?” asked several of the balls 
at once. 

They stopped talking, and sighing, and 
listened. And as they did so, they could 
hear words very distinctly, though they were 
not nearly so loud as a whisper. 

“ Snowball , Snowball , come up here! 

My head is hot , my throat feels queer: 

Tm going to faint , 1 surely fear . 

Won't some cool snowball come up here?" 

“Who are you?” asked Snowball Number 
One, who sat at the tiptop of the pile. 
“Where are you and what is your name?” 

“ I'm Life-of-the-Bush , 

In the bush I dwell; 

I know not my name , 

And so I can't tell." 

“I can’t see you,” said Number One, as 
he looked intently up at the branches. 


66 


THE GOLDEN GOBLET 


66 You can’t?” said the Bush , 

“ Then you must he blind . 

I’m right up here , — 

But never mind” 

The voice trailed off weakly; then they 
heard it again: 

“ I’m going to faint , I really fear . 

Won’t some kind snowball come up here?” 

“But you are up so high. How can one 
get there? We have neither a ladder nor 
wings and we do not know how to climb.” 
Number One did most of the talking; he 
was nearest the bush. 

“I’ll tell you how,” said Life-of-the-Bush, 
stopping his rhyme and talking plainly and 
simply and sensibly. “Just roll down the 
slope on the lawn to the foot of this bush. 
Make yourself as small as small can be, 
creep down into the ground, and take an 
elevator, which is always running, and you 
will come directly up to me.” The talking 
ceased, and the snowballs began to look at 
each other rather uneasily. 

“I can’t go,” said Number Two, who was 


THE SNOWBALL THAT DIDN’T MELT 67 

in the second row from the top. “I always 
tan terribly in the sun. It’s a long way 
down to the foot of the bush, and I should 
be brown as a berry before I got half 
way.” 

“I can’t go, either,” said Number Three, 
by his side. “ I don’t tan, but I freckle, 
and freckles look dreadful on my fair com- 
plexion.” 

“I’m sorry I can’t go,” said Number 
Four, from his place in the corner of the 
third row. “But I feel the heat terribly. 
My clothes are all sticking to me now.” 

“It’s simply out of the question for me,” 
said a big fat snowball down near the 
ground. “I know I’d melt before I got 
there. There isn’t much left of me now.” 

Number One was one of the fairest snow- 
balls of the bunch, but he was not afraid of 
freckles or tan. He was also one of the 
smallest of the lot. He looked down to the 
foot of the bush. It seemed a long way. 
The sun was certainly burning hot. He 
was not at all sure that he would live long 
enough in that sun to reach the bush. But 
some one should keep Life-of-the-Bush from 
fainting and he would try. 


68 


THE GOLDEN GOBLET 


He turned a quick somersault off the pile 
down to the ground. 

At just that moment something disturbed 
the whole pile and every ball in it tumbled 
down and out into the sun. 

As soon as Number One touched the 
ground, he began to roll over and over, and 
over, as fast as ever he could. It didn’t 
take him more than a minute to reach the 
foot of the bush. He remembered what 
Life-of-the-Bush had said, made himself just 
as small as small could be, crept down into 
the ground close to the stem and took the 
elevator, which seemed to be running all the 
time. 

It took quite a while to go up, but finally 
the elevator paused just long enough for 
him to get out. He found himself in a cool, 
rambling house, that seemed to be almost 
all long, narrow halls. They ran this way 
and that way and every — which — way. At 
one end of each hall, where the buds were 
opening, there were windows with green 
shades. Everything was very clean and 
sweet. Right in the middle of the house he 
found Life-of-the-Bush. He gave her a drink 
of water, which he had carried in his water- 


THE SNOWBALL THAT DIDN’T MELT 69 

proof pocket and not only kept her from 
fainting but made her as lively and well and 
happy as ever. 

Life-of-the-Bush thanked the snowball a 
thousand times and gave him the freedom of 
her beautiful house. 

“Now that you are here,” she said, “per- 
haps you will stay a while and help me build 
my house a little bigger. I must build leaves, 
and buds and branches and bark. I need 
your help.” 

The snowball stayed and helped. He 
found it very exciting work. He worked all 
day and all night, ran here and there, and 
never stopped for meals. He packed buds 
and unfolded them; he pushed out the leaves 
and built out the ends of branches; he made 
bark, pressed it till it was hard and colored 
it gray. 

Day after day he worked at his tasks as 
if they gave him the greatest joy in the 
world. But now and then Life-of-the-Bush 
saw him gazing out of the window, as if he 
were a bit homesick, to get out of doors 
again. 

“Stay with me a little longer,” she said, 
“to help me build my blossoms, and then 


70 


THE GOLDEN GOBLET 


I will send you out of doors on a beautiful 
errand to stay as long as your heart desires.” 

So Snowball stayed and helped Life-of-the- 
Bush build her blossoms. Basket after basket 
of white stuff, as white as snowflakes but ever 
so much smaller, he carried out to the ends 
of the branches. Jar after jar of perfume he 
carried, too, until the blossoms were quite 
complete. 

Then one evening — it was the last of 
May, or early June — Life-of-the-Bush called 
him. 

“ Tomorrow,” she said, “ there is to be a 
great Garden Festival. A prize is to be 
given for the most original and beautiful 
blossom. All the flowers of the season will 
be here in- the garden. You have been a 
good friend and a faithful helper. For 
reward, you may go to the Festival and stay 
as long as your heart desires.” 

“But how shall I go?” queried the snow- 
ball. 

“Right out through the end of one of my 
branches,” said Life-of-the-Bush. 

“But I shall fall off,” said the snowball. 

“I’ll tie you on with a stout string, so that 
not even the wind can blow you off.” 


THE SNOWBALL THAT DIDN’T MELT 71 

“But it’s hot outside. I shall melt.” 

“0, no. I’ve changed you so the hottest 
sun cannot melt you.” 

“But how can I get out through the end 
of the branch? ” asked the snowball, who could 
not get it through his head that he could 
really get out to the end of a branch and 
stay there all day and not fall off or melt. 

“Make yourself very small, just as small 
as when you came up to me and you can go 
out as easily as you run along these halls,” 
said Life-of-the-Bush. 

The snowball became quite excited. The 
Festival was to begin very early in the morn- 
ing. Besides he wanted to see, if he could, 
what had become of the other snowballs. 
So he decided that he would go out on the 
branch that night, while it was dark, and be 
there for the whole day’s fun. 

So he made himself very small, ran along 
the hall, crept out through a tiny green door 
and found himself tied securely to a swaying 
branch. The air was cool and sweet. He 
didn’t melt, as he half-feared he might, and 
he didn’t fall off. He looked around. Yes, 
this was the very bush he had seen before, 
but it was greener now. Morning came and 


72 THE GOLDEN GOBLET 

the great Festival. The garden was full of 
flowers and folks. 

There were lilacs and lilies of shades manifold 
There were daisies , and daffodils , yellow as 
gold . 

There were pansies, and peonies , red, white 
and pink , 

And every such flower of which you can think . 

You ought to have heard the “Ah’s!” and the 
“Oh’s!” 

Of all the fine people in all their fine clothes . 
You ought to have seen that wonderful sight , 
For no rhyme of mine can describe it half right. 

People went from bush to bush and from 
flower to flower. They could not for the life 
of them tell which blossom they thought 
most beautiful and original. 

The judges wandered about uncertainly 
with the ribbons in their pockets, not knowing 
to what plant or bush to tie them. 

The snowball grew very much interested, 
not to say excited, to see what blossom would 
finally win the prize. 

He noticed that groups of people contin- 


THE SNOWBALL THAT DIDN’T MELT 73 

ually stopped before the bush on which he 
hung. Apparently they admired it. He 
soon discovered that they were looking at 
him and was quite embarrassed. 

“Look!” he kept hearing them say, “See 
this snowball, — and it doesn’t melt! Why, 
it’s growing on the bush; it’s a blossom!” 
That was the first that he knew that Life-of- 
the-Bush had changed him from a snow- 
ball into a flower snowball. Of course 
he became very happy and twice as excited. 

Indeed, he could hardly breathe from 
excitement, when the judges came over, in a 
group, to where he grew. They looked at 
him and at the bush. Apparently they had 
never seen blossoms of this kind before. 

“I never saw such a big, round, white 
blossom before,” he heard one of them say, 
as he drew a blue ribbon from his pocket 
and tied it to the stem on which he hung. 
He knew and soon, of course, everybody 
knew that the “Snowball Bush” had won 
the prize. His heart beat so fast that he 
thought he was growing red in the face. 
Perhaps he was melting l But he wasn’t, for 
he heard a girl say just then, as she passed, 
“How white and cool it looks!” 


74 


THE GOLDEN GOBLET 


Snowball Number One had often wondered 
what had happened to his friends, the other 
snowballs. One reason why he had been 
anxious to get out of the bush was to find 
out if he could, what had become of them 
all. But the doings of the day had driven 
all thought of them out of his busy head. 

Now, as people began to leave the garden, 
and excitement grew less, he remembered 
and looked about him. Here was the yard 
in which the boys made him. There was the 
very place under the edge of the veranda 
where he had spent the winter and where 
they had all stood that spring morning when 
Life-of-the-Bush called to them. There was 
the place, almost under him, where he knew 
they had all tumbled down the moment he 
left them. But not a trace of a snowball 
could be seen. 

Of course not! They had all disappeared 
long ago, the very day, indeed, in which 
they tumbled down. Before noon the hot 
sun had melted them, every one, and carried 
them away, tan and freckles and all, and no 
one ever heard of them again. 

Number One, who ran right out into the 
sun, was the only snowball that didn’t melt. 


Boniface And Keep-It-All 














































* 




























V 











« 






A 





Boniface And Keep- 




T was in that far away 
time when there were such 
things as magic and spells, 
and when people called their 
children by such long names 
* as Boniface. 


Boniface was a prince. His father was 
the King of Own-land, and his mother was 
the Queen of Own-land. Prince Boniface 
was their only child. He was very young, 
yet it could be very easily seen that he was 
going to be strong and tall and straight 
like his father. But there came a time when 
his mother and teachers feared that Prince 
Boniface was growing a bit too selfish, and 
indeed this was not strange. In the palace 
the people were always bowing before him 


78 THE GOLDEN GOBLET 

and on the street the people always saluted 
him. He had almost always everything he 
wanted and scarcely ever in his life had he 
seen anyone who w T as very poor or sick or 
in trouble. 

It was Christmas Day and at the palace 
of Own-land every thing was in holiday 
attire. There was a huge Christmas tree 
in the great hall. But Prince Boniface had 
besides a Christmas tree in his room, all 
his own. What a wonderful tree it was! 
It glittered and sparkled like the diamonds 
in his father’s crown. There was almost 
everything on the tree and about the tree 
that a prince could wish for. There were 
coins — big, rich yellow, shining coins ; there 
were elegant clothes, cloaks, doublets, caps, 
gloves — many of them and of many colors; 
there were toys of the most expensive sort; 
and sweetmeats ! — there were sweets enough to 
fill his eyes to say nothing about his mouth. 
In fact there was everything that a prince 
might want to spend, to wear, to eat, or to 
play with. 

“What are you going to do with it all, 
my son?” asked his mother. 

“I am going to keep it all.” 


BONIFACE AND KEEP — IT — ALL 79 

“Would you not like to give some of these 
things away to your poor little subjects? 
They would be grateful to you, my son. 
One of those coins would be a great fortune 
to many a poor fisherman’s boy.” 

“But I want to spend them all myself,” 
said the Prince. “I want to keep them all.” 

“You have a great many gloves, gloves of 
many colors. You surely could spare one 
pair of those. There is many a poor child 
whose fingers are blue with the cold.” 

“But I want to keep them all; I need 
them all. There is a red pair for Monday, 
a white one for Tuesday, a blue one for 
Wednesday, a black one for Thursday, a 
red one for Friday, a white one for Saturday 
and a blue one for Sundays and holidays. 
A prince ought to have seven colors instead 
of four so that he could have a different color 
for every day.” 

“See all your toys and sweetmeats. You 
might spare a bundle of toys and a box of 
sweets to many of your subjects and still 
have quite enough left for yourself. They 
have so much less than the Prince.” 

“But a prince ought to have more than 
his subjects. I want to keep it all.” 


80 


THE GOLDEN GOBLET 


“I wanted to give my son, a happy 
Christmas,” said his mother. 

“But that would just spoil my Christmas,” 
whined the Prince. 

“Now the Prince is not speaking as one 
with such a name should speak,” said the 
Queen. 

“What do you mean? What name?” 

“Boniface, Boniface means benefactor, one 
who is kind and generous and who gives to 
those that are poor and needy.” 

“Then I can change my name,” said the 
Prince, angrily. 

His mother quietly withdrew, leaving him 
frowning, and digging his heels into the 
velvety rug. 

When his old nurse came into the room a 
few minutes later he was still frowning, and 
digging his heels into the velvety rug. 

“ Merry Christmas to Your Highness ! ” He 
was so busy frowning and digging his heel 
into the velvety rug that he did not hear 
her. 

“What is the matter with Your Highness 
this happy Christmas Day?” 

“It is not a happy Christmas,” replied 
the Prince. 


BONIFACE AND KEEP — IT — ALL 81 


“Why not?” 

“My mother wants me to give everything 
away.” 

“Everything?” 

“’Most everything; and I want to keep 
it all. It would just spoil my Christmas to 
give things away. I don’t like that kind of 
Christmas. I don’t like to give things away. 
I wish I lived in a place where I never had 
to give things away. I don’t like my name, 
either. I wish I had another name.” 

“Shh!” said the old nurse. “It is Christ- 
mas Day. One must be very careful what 
one wishes on Christmas Day. It might 
come true. Sometimes when one wishes on 
Christmas Day, a spell comes on one.” 

“What is a spell?” asked the Prince with 
interest. 

“A spell,” said the old nurse hesitating, 
“a spell — why, a spell is a spell. It makes 
you do strange things; it changes you. It 
makes you say what it wants and it makes 
you do what it wants. His Highness should 
be careful what he wishes on Christmas 
Day; it might come true. I wouldn’t wish 
that I had another name or lived in another 
place.” 


82 


THE GOLDEN GOBLET 


“But I do” said the Prince, stamping 
his foot. “I wish it, I wish it, I wish it, 
I wish it.” 

The Prince put on his new, fur -trimmed 
velvet cloak. He opened a drawer where his 
coins were kept and dropped a handful into 
his breeches’ pocket; he stuffed some toys 
inside his cloak and fastened it securely; and 
he put some sweetmeats into the pouch at 
his side, all that the pouch would hold. He 
pulled his fur cap down over his ears as far 
as it would go, and started for the door. 

“Where is Your Highness going?” asked 
the nurse timidly. The door slammed for 
reply. 

The Prince really intended to go only 
to a neighboring street to see his uncle and 
show him some of his gifts; but he did 
nothing of the kind. He could not turn 
the corner. His feet kept going straight 
ahead, because, you see, a spell was on him. 
He met the duke and wanted to speak to 
him, but his feet would not stop. The duke 
did not salute him. It seemed very strange 
to the Prince. Nobody saluted him. He 
tried to stop to find out the reason for this 
conduct but his feet would not stop; they 


BONIFACE AND KEEP — IT — ALL 83 

kept going on as regularly as a clock — left, 
right; left, right. Down the hill he went, 
to the marketplace, and then through the 
marketplace to where the street grew very 
narrow and the little white houses became 
scattering. His feet carried him right to the 
door of one of those houses and he found 
himself knocking. Why he knocked at that 
door he could not for the life of him say, 
because you see the spell was on him. A 
grizzled man with wrinkled face and gnarled 
fingers opened the door. 

“ Merry Christmas,” said the Prince, as 
he entered. He had not forgotten his man- 
ners even if the spell was on him. 

“Christmas, to be sure,” said the old 
man, “but not a Merry Christmas in this 
house.” 

“Why not?” asked the Prince. “Is not 
everyone merry on Christmas Day?” 

“My wife is sick. It has been a hard 
year; we have had much trouble.” 

“What is your name?” asked the Prince, 
for a boy can ask that question when he 
doesn’t know anything else to ask. 

“Pierre; they call me Pierre the Fisher- 
man. What is your name?” 


84 


THE GOLDEN GOBLET 


“Keep-it-all,” said the Prince. 

“Keep-it-all?” asked Pierre, smiling at 
the strange name. 

“No,” said the Prince, who scarcely knew 
what he had said and did not mean to say 
it, “No, it is — it is — Keep-it-all.” He 
tried with all his might to say Boniface 
but his tongue would say nothing but Keep- 
it-all. 

“Where do you live?” asked the old man. 

“At Greedy Green, ”said the Prince. 

“Greedy Green?” asked the old man. 

“ No ! no ! — Greedy Green ! ’ ’ He tried 
hard to say Own-land but he could not for 
the life of him say it. The spell was on 
him, you see. 

“Keep-it-all from Greedy Green,” said 
the old fisherman. “That is certainly the 
queerest name I ever heard.” 

The Prince was anxious to change the sub- 
ject quickly; so he asked: 

“Where is your Christmas tree?” 

“We have no Christmas tree in this 
house.” 

“Why not?” 

“We have no money. It takes money to 
buy a Christmas tree.” 


BONIFACE AND KEEP — IT — ALL 85 

“But, I have money, I will give you some.” 

He had begun to feel very sorry for Pierre 
the Fisherman. He had never seen anyone 
so poor as he. 

“I will give you some money.” He put 
his hand into his breeches pocket; that is he 
tried to put his hand into his pocket, but he 
could not find the opening. In fact, there 
was no opening. It was just as if there had 
never been a pocket. Try as hard as he 
would he could not get to his money. He 
had to keep it all. He grew so embarrassed, 
as he saw the poor fisherman waiting, that 
it is hard to say what would have happened 
if the spell hadn’t turned him round and 
marched him out of the door. 

Around the corner he found himself climb- 
ing a very rickety pair of stairs and knocking 
at a very rickety door. 

“Come in,” said a thin voice from within. 

He went in and there he saw the owner of 
that thin voice propped up in bed. His 
face, too, was very thin, and very pale. 

“Why don’t you get up?” asked the 
Prince. 

“I can’t; I have had an accident; it was 
a long time ago.” 


THE GOLDEN GOBLET 


“What is your name?” 

“My name is Louis; they call me Louis 
the Cripple. I don’t like that name. My 
father is a carpenter.” The Prince could 
hear the father hammering in the back room. 

“W T hat is your name?” asked the thin 
voice. 

“Keep-it-all from Greedy Green,” said the 
Prince. “No! no! give, me a pencil and 
paper and I will write it for you.” So he 
wrote “B-o-n-i-f-a-c-e.” That is what he 
thought he was writing, but his fingers would 
not write it. This is what he really wrote: 
“K-e-e-p i-t a-1-1 from G-r-e-e-d-y G-r-e-e-n.” 

“Keep-it-all from Greedy Green?” said 
Louis. “That is not a very pretty name, is 
it? I shouldn’t think you would like it. I 
think I like mine better.” 

“Where are your toys?” asked the Prince. 

“I have no toys. My father has no money 
with which to buy toys.” 

“I have some toys for you, right here, 
inside my cloak.” He put his hand inside 
his cloak to get the toys. That is, he tried 
to put his hand inside his cloak but for the 
life of him he could not. He could not 
undo a clasp, nor, could he put his fingers 


BONIFACE AND KEEP — IT — ALL 87 

in between the clasps ; that cloak was as tight 
as if it had been locked. You see, the spell 
was on the cloak. 

He did want to give Louis the Cripple one 
of those toys very much but he could not do 
so. He had to keep them all. He was glad 
to open the rickety door, walk down the 
rickety stairs and be out once more on the 
street. 

His way lay past a sweetmeat shop with a 
great window. Right in front of that win- 
dow with their noses pressed tight against 
the pane was a little group of dirty, forlorn, 
ragged boys and girls. They were pointing 
and looking longingly at the many kinds of 
sweets inside and choosing what kind they 
liked best. The Prince stopped for a minute 
and watched them. 

“Would you like some sweetmeats?” he 
said. 

“Yes,” said they all at once, gathering 
about him with hands held out eagerly. 

“I have some in my pouch for each of 
you.” He put his hand into his pouch and 
drew out the most wonderful sweets you 
ever saw. “Here is a piece for each of you.” 
But there was not. It stuck to his hands; 


88 


THE GOLDEN GOBLET 


for the life of him he could not get if off. 
If he took it off one finger it would stick to 
another. And the boys and girls could not 
pull it off either. At first they were dis- 
appointed, then they were amused. They 
called him “Sticky Fingers,” and “Sweet- 
meat Fingers.” 

“We don’t want any sweets,” they said. 
“You may keep it all.” And indeed there 
was nothing for the Prince to do but to 
keep it all. He drew on his gloves and 
ran away as fast as he could go. He was 
going so fast as he turned the corner that he 
almost knocked down little Bernard, the 
baker’s son. The boy had his arms full of 
loaves, and was crying bitterly. 

“What is the matter?” asked the Prince. 
He knew little Bernard and had seen him 
at the castle. 

“I am cold, my ears and fingers are so 
cold.” His ears were very white, indeed, 
and his fingers were very blue. 

“You may have my cap and gloves,” said 
the Prince generously. “I have many more 
at home.” But the spell was on the cap 
and gloves. He could no more pull his cap 
off than he could pull off his scalp; and he 


BONIFACE AND KEEP — IT — ALL 89 

could no more pull off his gloves than he 
could pull off his fingers. He had to keep 
them on. Bernard thought the Prince was mak- 
ing sport of him and ran away upon his errand. 

The Prince’s heart was nearly broken. He 
started up the hill, as fast as he could run, 
toward the castle, saying to himself at every 
step he took: “I wish my name was Boni- 
face and that I lived in Own-land.” 

“Halt!” said the sentry at the castle door. 
The sentry did not recognize him, you see. 

“What is your name?” 

“Prince Boniface of Own-land.” How 
happy the Prince was to discover that he 
had his own name back again! 

“I beg Your Highness’ pardon,” said the 
sentry. Then he stood at attention and 
saluted. 

The Prince burst into the door of the 
castle and if he had not been a prince I 
really believe he would have burst out cry- 
ing, too. The nurse was glad enough to 
see him. 

“Where has Your Highness been his long 
hour?” 

“Oh, looking around the town,” said he, 
carelessly. 


90 


THE GOLDEN GOBLET 


After a while he told her what had really 
happened: about poor Pierre the Fisherman, 
and Louis the Cripple, and the boys and 
girls before the great candy window, and 
Bernard the baker’s son, whose ears were 
white and whose fingers were blue with the 
cold. He told her he had wanted to do some- 
thing for them all and to her question 
why he had not done so, he confessed and 
told her all. 

“I could not get into my pouch.” 

“Why not?” she said, as she saw that his 
pouch opened easily enough now. 

“And I could not get inside my cloak to 
find the toys.” 

“Why not?” she said, as he now unclasped 
the cloak quite easily. 

“And I could not get the sweetmeats off 
my fingers.” 

“Why not?” she said, for she opened her 
hand and he put the sweets into it easily 
enough. 

“And I could not take off my cap or my 
gloves.” 

“Why not?” she said, as his cap flew into 
the air and his gloves went clear across the 
room, he pulled so hard. 


BONIFACE AND KEEP — IT — ALL 91 

“It was a spell,” said the nurse. “You 
wished it on and I’ll wager you wished it 
off again.” 

The Prince owned that he had. “I 
wished to be Prince Boniface and to live in 
Own-land all my life.” 

There is one thing that the Prince did not 
tell his nurse and I don’t believe he ever 
told her, — that for one whole terrible hour 
he had had the horrible name of “Keep-it- 
all from Greedy Green.” 

His mother came into the room dressed 
for a drive. 

“I should like to go with you, mother. I 
should like to go with you, for I want to 
give some of my things away.” 

“Now my son speaks like a real Prince 
Boniface.” 

In a moment the Prince and his mother 
were in the royal carriage, surrounded with 
many packages. The Queen told the coach- 
man to drive where the Prince directed. 

They stopped at Pierre the Fisherman’s 
and gave into his wrinkled hand two shining, 
yellow coins and saw the old man’s eyes fill 
with tears. They visited Louis the Cripple, 
gave him some marvelous toys and saw his 


92 THE GOLDEN GOBLET 

eyes sparkle with pleasure. They went to 
the block where the great sweetmeat shop 
was, and gave to each one of those children 
more sweets than he had ever had in all his 
life. They found Bernard the baker’s son 
and gave him a beautiful cap and some 
wonderful gloves. They went to many other 
places, too, which I haven’t time to tell 
you about. 

That was a wonderful day for Prince 
Boniface. Before night came he was plan- 
ning for the next Christmas and the many 
things he would give away then. 

Boniface grew to be a kind prince. The 
people loved him and he was known as 
“Good Prince Boniface.” Later in life, 
when his hair was sprinkled with gray, they 
called him “King Boniface, the Good.” 


Mrs. Gray' s Family 



Mrs. Grafs Family 


OME of you have heard of 
Query Queer, the boy who 
asked so many questions and 
such queer questions that 
they called him Query Queer, 
and of the Wise-and-Wonder 
Man, with whom he sometimes used to 
talk. 

Query Queer was spending his summer 
outing on his grandfather’s farm. This was 
the very first day of the outing; and since 
it was the first day, of course it was a very 
long day. For Query Queer arose before 
the dew had been caught up from the grass, 
before the birds had stopped singing in the 
early morning, before the sun had grown 
very hot. By the middle of the afternoon 
he had become just a bit weary, and for 

* Reprinted by permission of Houghton, Mifflin & Co. 



96 THE GOLDEN GOBLET 

want of something very exciting to do he 
threw himself down in the shade of a spread- 
ing oak tree. 

He lay, there, supporting his head with 
his elbow, watching the gray squirrels play- 
ing tag up and down and around the trunk 
of the chestnut tree, and watching the little 
red striped chipmunks playing hide and 
seek in an old brush pile. 

“I wonder why — ” thought Query. 

Just that minute there was a rustle in 
the leaves overhead, a tinkle , tinkle , in the 
air, and a thud on the ground by Query 
Queer’s side. 

“Why, Mr. Wise-and- Wonder Man, is 
it you?” 

“Nobody else,” said the little man, dressed 
in his blue suit with buttons of silver bells, 
and his blue cap with its fringe of silver bells. 

“Well, I am surprised to see you. I did 
not know that you lived here.” 

“I don’t. I was just passing through, 
saw that you were here, and thought I 
would hunt you up and have a word with 
you.” 

“How did you know that I was here?” 

“Why, I saw your tracks in the meadow.” 



“Why, Mr. Wise-and-Wonder Man, is it you ?” 









MRS. GRAY’S FAMILY 


97 


“But aren’t all people’s tracks just the 
same, especially in the meadow?” 

“Oh, no; everybody makes his own kind 
of tracks. What were you wondering about 
just now?” 

“Why, I was just wondering why all the 
animals look alike.” 

“Why, Query Queer, all the animals don’t 
look alike, you know very well.” 

“Well, I mean why all the animals of a 
certain kind look alike, — why all the chip- 
munks look alike, and why all the gray 
squirrels look alike.” 

“Why, that is easy. They belong to the 
same family.” 

“That is what puzzles me,” said Query 
Queer. “You see, my brother and I belong 
to the same family, but my brother has 
black hair and I have red, he has brown 
eyes and I have blue, he has a smooth face 
and I have freckles, he likes radishes and 
I like olives. But that is not so with the 
gray squirrels. They all dress alike, they 
all look alike, they all play alike, and they 
all eat alike, as far as I can see; and I don’t 
understand it.” 

“That is really very simple. You see, 


98 


THE GOLDEN GOBLET 


every squirrel does just what his parents did 
and told him to do, and his parents did just 
what their parents did and told them to do, 
and their parents did just what their par- 
ents did and told them to do.” 

“But how did that come about?” 

The Wise-and-Wonder Man tore a thick, 
soft leaf from the mullein stock and sat 
down on it for a cushion, took off his little 
blue cap with its fringe of silver bells that 
went “ tinkle-tankle, tinkle-tankle, tink,” 
crossed his legs and began : — 

“You see, just a little after the time when 
the gray squirrels began to come — ” 

“When was that?” interrupted Query. 

“Well, that was just a little after the time 
when the chestnuts began to come. Wasn’t 
that funny? Just a little after the time 
when the gray squirrels began to come, Mr. 
and Mrs. Gray, old settlers, came to a coun- 
try something like this — I shouldn’t be 
surprised if this was the very spot — and 
began housekeeping. As winter came along, 
they selected a big chestnut tree, and in 
a crotch in the top of that tree, they 
built their house, of sticks and grass and 


MRS. gray’s family 99 

moss, and more grass, and plaster, and leaves. 
In this nest they were cozy and snug all 
winter long. 

“When the middle of spring came, they 
had a fine family of four boys, Paul Pry, 
Sharp Tooth, Gray S., Junior, and Shade- 
tail. 

“You never saw a more devoted mother 
than Mrs. Gray. Before those little kitten 
children of hers opened their eyes she used 
to feed them and chatter to them and carry 
them about. After they opened their eyes 
and were big enough to follow her, she used 
to lead them out on the limbs and teach them 
how to creep and crawl and climb. She 
taught them all the rules of the school and 
just how squirrels ought to live. She told 
them what they should wear, how they 
should look, how they should play and 
what they should eat. 

“Every morning, as fast as the mornings 
came, and three times a day, she made them 
stand up in a row and repeat the rules of her 
school. Each one repeated one rule, and 
then they all four repeated a rule together. 
And this is the way it was, every morning 
noon and night. 


100 


THE GOLDEN GOBLET 


“‘Paul Pry!’ Mrs. Gray would say; and 
Paul Pry would recite: 

66 6 The first rule of this school — and remem- 
ber that — 

Is to play rather high and look out for the 
cat ' 

“‘Right. — Sharp Tooth!’ 

66 6 For food you may eat nuts , apples and 
seed; 

But don't even smell any strange kind of 
feed .’ 

“‘Right. — Gray S., Junior!’ 

66 6 Play hard when you play and do as you 
oughter — ’ 

(“He seemed never to pronounce those 
words — ‘ ought to ’ — right. There are some 
words that squirrels cannot pronounce cor- 
rectly.) 

“‘ Play hard when you play and do as you 
oughter, 

But don't try to fly, and keep out of the 
water' 


“‘Shade-tail!’ 


MRS. GRAY*S FAMILY 


101 


66 6 Dress always in gray — in this do not 
lack — 

And don't fail to keep your tail over your 
hack' 

“'Correct! now, all together.’ 

“‘For you are the children of wise Mrs . Gray , 

You'll be happy and safe if you only obey\' 

“As these children grew up, it became 
harder and harder for Mrs. Gray to keep 
them in order and have them do as she wished. 
They became very anxious to get out by 
themselves; to eat just what they wanted to 
eat, play just as they wanted to play, dress 
just as they wanted to dress, and go just 
where they wanted to go. 

“Finally the time came when wise Mrs. 
Gray, with a big tear in each one of her 
black eyes, called her boys together and 
told them that the day had arrived when 
they might go out and do just as they 
pleased. The door of her house was open 
to them; they could return when they 
wished to do so, but they could now do just 
as their fancy led them to do. 

“They scampered away so fast that you 
would have thought they never had cared 


102 


THE GOLDEN GOBLET 


anything for home. They played so hard 
it seemed as if they would jump out of their 
little gray skins. They chased each other 
over the limbs, up and down and around 
about the trunks of the chestnut trees, and 
out along the rails of the old crooked fence. 
Finally, just because they were really tired 
of playing together this boisterous game, 
each one crept away by himself to think 
out something quieter that he might do. 

“Paul Pry sat down, with his tail over 
his back, on a low limb of an oak tree. 
Paul Pry was a very curious squirrel. If 
there was anything that went on in the woods 
which he did not see, then nobody saw it. 
While his eyes were roaming around to see 
what would turn up, they lighted on a furry 
object down at the foot of the tree. 

“‘What’s that?’ he thought. T must see. 
I believe it is the cat. What was that rule 
my mother taught me?’ 

“‘The first rule of this school , and remember 
that , 

Is to 'play rather high , and look out for the 
cat . ’ 

“‘What nonsense! Why, she’s a really 
kind-looking creature. She doesn’t look as 


MRS. gray’s family 103 

if she would hurt anybody. I’ll go down 
and get a better look at her.’ He crept 
down softly. ‘I believe she’s asleep. If I 
had a straw I would tickle her nose. I al- 
most dare touch her with my paw. Cat! 
Cat! Can’t catch me, can’t catch me!’ 

“‘I cant ?’ shouted the cat as she sprang 
toward the tree. The squirrel scrambled 
away as fast as ever he could, but not fast 
enough. The cat caught him right by the 
back of the neck and carried him away limp 
to make a good dinner for her kittens behind 
the house. 

“At just about the time when Paul Pry, 
with his tail over his back, seated on a low 
limb of the oak tree, spied the cat, Sharp 
Tooth, sitting on a fence post began to grow 
very hungry. 

“‘Where in the world can I find something 
to eat, — nuts, apples or seed? I’ll take a 
turn around the farmer’s yard to see whether 
something is lying about.’ 

“Of course something was lying about, 
and in just about a minute Sharp Tooth was 
sitting upon a dry-goods box in Mr. Farmer’s 
wood-shed, gnawing a butternut. 


104 


THE GOLDEN GOBLET 


“‘Good morning,’ said a rat from behind 
a barrel. ‘It seems to me you are making 
a good deal of noise eating your lunch.’ 

“‘No more than you would make if you 
had a nut as hard as this,’ answered Sharp 
Tooth, rather saucily. 

“‘Why don’t you eat something softer?’ 

“‘Because I don’t know where to find it.’ 

“‘I do. Come with me and I will show 
you.’ 

“The rat led the way around behind some 
boxes and barrels, along a beam and down 
through a tunnel which led right through 
the wall into Mr. Farmer’s cellar. 

“‘It smells awfully good here,’ said Sharp 
Tooth. 

“‘Oh, there are delicious things to eat 
here. You see somebody has even put some- 
thing rights here by my hole for me to eat,’ 
said the rat, pointing to a piece of bread and 
butter. 

“‘How very kind they are,’ said Sharp 
Tooth very innocently. 

“‘Have a bite,’ urged the rat. 

“‘No, thank you. My mother told me 
not to eat anything that was strange.’ 

“‘Why, how silly! Mr. Farmer eats this. 


MRS. gray’s family 105 

and all his family, three times a day. It 
won’t hurt you. Smell it.’ 

“‘No, thank you. My mother was very 
strict. I remember the rule that I used to 
say every morning, noon, and night: 

“‘For food you may eat nuts , apples, and seed: 

But don't even smell any strange kind of 
feed' 

“‘Oh, such nonsense,’ said the rat. ‘That 
was when you were a baby, anyway. You 
are grown up now. What harm could it 
do you to smell that piece of bread and 
butter? Don’t be afraid.’ So Sharp Tooth 
took a little smell. It was good, very good, 
so good that he thought he would like to 
taste it. 

“He took just a crumb, then a nibble, 
then a little bigger nibble, then a little bite, 
and then a good big bite. 

“Just as the rat and Sharp Tooth had 
their mouths well filled, the door opened 
and Mr. Farmer stepped on the stairs. They 
were frightened almost out of their wits. The 
rat ran into the first hole that he found. 
Sharp Tooth found the tunnel, ran through 
the woodshed, and never stopped running 


106 


THE GOLDEN GOBLET 


until he had hidden himself among the thick 
leaves of a maple tree. 

“Pretty soon he had a strange feeling in 
his stomach. His head grew dizzy, and he 
was so sick that he couldn’t for the life of 
him keep his tail up over his back. It 
seemed as if he never would reach home, 
although it was only a stone’s throw. He 
crept down the maple tree and along the 
fence, and finally, with his tail out behind 
him, he reached the chestnut tree, and 
crawled painfully up to the old nest. 

“‘Why, Sharp Tooth,’ said his mother, 
running out to meet him. ‘What is the 
matter?’ 

“‘I don’t know. I have a pain in my 
stomach, and my head turns round and 
round.’ 

“‘What have you been eating?’ 

“‘A butternut,’ said Sharp Tooth. 

“‘Your lips smell to me as if it was butter, 
rather than a butternut,’ said his mother. 
‘Now, be brave and tell me the truth. You 
have been eating something else.’ 

“Sharp Tooth was brave and told her the 
truth, that he had eaten something in Mr. 
Farmer’s celler. 


MRS. GRAY’S FAMILY 


107 


“‘What was it?’ 

‘“I don’t know the name of it.’ 

‘“What did it look like?’ 

“‘It was white with a little yellow on 
top of it and then a little green.’ 

“‘Horrors!’ said his mother, ‘It was 
poison. You must go to bed this minute, 
and I will give you a dose of medicine.’ 
She ran down-stairs as fast as she could go, 
out to the roadside, gathered some heal-all 
and made a brew. 

“‘Open your mouth wide’ she said, and she 
gave him a big dose of medicine. It was a day 
or two before he was able to be around and it 
was at least a week before he could eat a thing. 

“Now, at just about the time when Paul 
Pry, with his tail over his back, seated on 
a low limb of the oak tree, spied the cat, 
and Sharp Tooth, sitting on the top of the 
fence post began to grow very hungry, Gray 
S., Junior, out on the edge of a leafy branch, 
struck up an acquaintance with a cuckoo 
across the way. 

“‘Come over here,’ said the cuckoo. 

“‘I can’t,’ said Gray S. ‘It’s too far for 
me to jump.’ 


108 


THE GOLDEN GOBLET 


“‘Fly, then.’ 

“‘I don’t know how/ 

“‘You don’t know how? Well, you are 
a stupid squirrel. In the country where 
I come from almost all the squirrels fly. A 
fellow of your age who couldn’t fly would 
be ashamed to own it.’ 

“‘My mother told me not to try/ 

“‘That was because you were a baby, 
and she was afraid you would fly away so 
far that she couldn’t find you.’ 

“‘How do you do it?’ asked Gray S., 
Junior. 

“‘You just jump and spread your feet 
out like this,’ said the cuckoo, spreading 
his wings, ‘and sail across/ 

“Gray S. hesitated. 

“He remembered the words that he had 
repeated every morning, noon and night: — 

6(6 Play hard when you play , and do as you 
oughter , 

But don't try to fly , and keep out of the 
water.' 

“‘Don’t be a coward/ said the cuckoo. 
‘I dare you to do it.’ 

“Gray S., Junior, could not take a dare, 


MRS. gray’s family 109 

so he jumped, spread out his feet and sailed. 
But he didn’t sail the way he thought he was 
going to do. Not being a flying squirrel, he 
went down toward the ground just as fast 
as his weight would carry him and fell with 
a thud. Being a squirrel he landed on his 
feet, and was not badly injured. But you 
ought to have seen that squirrel. Right 
down under the branches there was a soft, 
oozy, muddy, squashy place, and into that 
soft, oozy, muddy, squashy place Gray 
S., Junior fell. He was mud from the 
tip of his nose to the tip of his tail? his 
eyes, his ears and his mouth were filled with 
mud. He sneezed and he sneezed, and he 
coughed and he coughed, and he shook him- 
self, and he shook himself, but he could not 
get rid of that mud. 

“‘What in the world am I to do? What 
in the world am I to do?’ he groaned. ‘I 
never can go home looking like this.’ 

“‘Jump in and have a swim,’ said a bull- 
frog that had climbed out of the pond, and 
sat on the bank close by. 

“‘No, thank you,’ said Gray S., Junior. 
‘I don’t know how. My mother told me 
not to go into the water.’ 


110 THE GOLDEN GOBLET 

“ ‘ Very ridiculous! There’s no danger. 
Your mother would never know, anyway. 
If you go home now, all mud, she will know 
that something has happened; but if you 
jump in and take a swim you will be com- 
pletely cleaned and she never will know 
that anything has happened.’ 

“That appealed to Gray S., Junior. 

“‘How do you swim?’ he asked. 

“‘You just jump in like this and make 
your feet go.’ 

“The frog jumped in, made his feet go, 
and soon sat smiling on a lily-pad in the 
middle of the pond. It looked easy; so 
Gray S., Junior jumped in after him and 
made his feet go. But instead of coming 
up to the surface, he sank down to the 
bottom; it seemed as if he never would come 
to the top. Of course, he did come to the 
top, but, being a squirrel, he was a very 
poor swimmer, and it was all he could do 
to keep his nose above water, until with 
one desperate reach he clutched a big float- 
ing chip and climbed up on top of it. He 
was wet to the skin, he was frightened almost 
to death and he was shivering with cold, 
but there was nothing for him to do except 


MRS. gray’s family 111 

to sit there and wait for something to turn 
up. 

“Finally a bright idea struck him. He 
shook out his tail, which was very wet, 
waved it back and forth in the sun and the 
wind until it got quite dry, then hoisted it 
up over his back like a sail, and the wind 
blew him over to land. And if ever a ship- 
wrecked sailor was glad to get to land, Gray 

S., Junior, was glad when his little chip 
struck the shore. 

“It took him very little time to reach his 
mother’s home in the top of the chestnut 
tree. And no more penitent squirrel ever 
confessed his sins to his mother than Gray 

S., Junior. 

“Now just about the time when Paul Pry, 
with his tail up over his back, upon a low 
limb of the oak tree, spied the cat, and 
Sharp Tooth sitting upon the top of a fence 
post began to grow very hungry, and Gray 

S., Junior, out upon the edge of a leafy 
branch, struck up an acquaintance with a 
cuckoo across the way, Shade-tail was having 
a conversation with a chipmunk at the edge of 
a sand bank. They were talking about clothes. 


112 THE GOLDEN GOBLET 

“‘What makes you wear that gray suit all 
the time?’ asked the chipmunk. 

“‘Because it is the only suit I have; be- 
sides, my mother taught me to dress always 
in gray.’ 

“‘I should think you would grow fear- 
fully tired of it. It makes you look like a 
Quaker.’ 

“‘I do. I wish I had a suit like yours, 
soft red with pretty white and brown stripes 
down the back.’ 

“‘That is easy to have. Go and paint 
yourself all red and then come, and I will 
put stripes down your back just like mine/ 

“‘Shade-tail lost no time. He knew where 
there was some paint, because, being a 
squirrel, he had seen the painters put it in 
Mr. Farmer’s barn. In a moment he had 
found a bucket almost full of chipmunk-red 
paint. He stood upon the edge of the bucket 
wondering how in the world he was going to 
get the paint. Something happened, — I’ve 
never heard just what. In some way he 
slipped and fell backward full length into 
that pail of chipmunk-red paint. If the 
bucket had not been so full he surely would 
have perished. As it was, he managed to 


MRS. GRAY’S FAMILY 


113 


catch the edge of the bucket with one paw 
and drag himself out. 

“He was the most wonderful looking squir- 
rel you ever saw. From the tip of his nose 
to the tip of his tail he was red as a chip- 
munk. The tail was the most interesting 
part of him, because, you see, now his tail 
was no longer bushy, but it was long, 
straight, smooth and pointed like a rat’s tail. 

“He took the chipmunk’s advice and sat 
down upon a big flat stone in the sun until 
he should get dry. When evening came he 
made his way — his tail of course straight 
out behind him, because he could not put it 
up over his back — along the fence rail and 
up the trunk of the chestnut tree to his old 
home. 

“His mother stood at the door with her 
hand upon the door knob. 

“‘ Who’s this coming?’ she said to herself. 
"He looks like a tramp to me, red enough to 
be an Indian.’ 

“‘Good evening,’ said Shade-tail, being 
unusually polite. 

“‘Who are you?’ asked Mrs. Gray, sharply. 

“‘Why, don’t you know me? I’m your 
son,, Shade-tail.’ 


114 THE GOLDEN GOBLET 

“‘Indeed, you are no son of mine. No 
son of mine was ever red or had a tail like 
that. That’s a rat’s tail. You are a rat, a 
red, ruffian rat. Begone this minute, or I’ll 
call Mr. Gray. Mr. Gray!’ she screamed. 

“Shade-tail did not wait for Mr. Gray to 
appear, but crept down the trunk of the tree 
as fast as the sticky paint would let him. 
He spent the night in a corner of the fence, 
thinking. It all came over him, — his own 
family did not know him or else they would 
not own him. He was all alone in the world. 
As the fall came on, he tried to find a mate 
but no gray squirrel would live with him. 
He appealed to the chipmunk, because the 
chipmunk had got him into the trouble. 
The chipmunk said he might live with him, 
but the door of his house was too small for 
Shade-tail, and the chipmunk was afraid to 
make it bigger. He appealed to some red 
squirrels, but the red squirrels saw under- 
neath the paint that he after all was a gray 
squirrel, their old enemy, and they chased 
him out of the tree. He went to a weasel’s 
house and asked for permission to live with 
him, but the weasel saw that he had no white 
spot on his breast; he flew at him and bit 


MRS. gray’s family 115 

him in the shoulder. There was nothing 
left for Shade-tail to do but to spend the 
winter alone in the lonely loft of the farmer’s 
barn. 

“Now, when spring came a strange thing 
happened. Shade-tail discovered one day 
that all the old fur on his body and tail, 
that which had the paint on it, had fallen 
out, and that instead there had come a new, 
clean, sleek, gray coat and a bushy, gray 
tail. No boy with a new cap and no girl 
with a new ribbon was ever more pleased 
with it than Shade-tail was with his gray 
suit and the bushy tail, which he now could 
put over his back. 

“Of course, you know what he did. He 
went straight to his mother’s house, and was 
received as a long-lost son. But he found 
out to his sorrow that while he had been 
gone all his brothers had left the home to 
make room for a new family. So there was 
nothing for him to do but to go out and 
make a home for himself. 

“Mrs. Gray told all of her children for 
years to come about that day when her four 
sons, Paul Pry, Sharp Tooth, Gray S., Junior, 


116 


THE GOLDEN GOBLET 


and Shade-tail, got into trouble because they 
did not follow her rules. And they told the 
story to their children. 

“The sons themselves, when they had their 
families, used to tell the tale to their children. 

“Sharp Tooth would take his children 
on his knee and tell them how Uncle 
Gray S., Junior, had been nearly drowned, 
and how Uncle Shade-tail had spent a lonely 
winter in the loft of the farmer’s barn, and 
how Uncle Paul Pry had been killed by the 
cat — because they disobeyed. And Gray 
S., Junior, would take his children on his 
knee and he would tell them how Uncle 
Shade-tail had spent a lonely winter in the 
loft of the farmer’s barn, and how Uncle 
Sharp Tooth had nearly died with a pain in 
his stomach, and how Uncle Paul Pry had 
been killed by the cat — because they dis- 
obeyed. And Shade-tail would take his 
children on his knee and he would tell them 
how Uncle Sharp Tooth had nearly died with 
a pain in his stomach, and how Uncle Gray 
S., Junior, had been nearly drowned, and 
how Uncle Paul Pry had been killed by the 
cat — because they disobeyed. Then each 
would have his children repeat: 


MRS. GRAY’S FAMILY 


117 


For you are the children of wise Mrs. Gray , 
You’ll be happy and safe if you only obey S 

“So, Query Queer,” said the Wise-and- 
Wonder Man, rising to go, “that is why all 
the gray squirrels do the same things, dress 
the same way, play the same way, eat the 
same things. They must do that if they are 
going to be gray squirrels; and if they are 
not gray squirrels they are not anything.” 

“There is a gray squirrel now, crawling 
along the telegraph wire,” said Query. “Do 
you know, I never saw one on a trolley wire.” 

“Neither did I,” said the Wise-and-Won- 
der Man. 

“Why not?” 

“Because their mothers told them there 
was danger there.” 


Much And More 


* 



















Much And More 


UCH and More were two 
young boys in school. They 
were just the same age, and 
yet they were not twins, for 
the very simple reason that 
they were cousins, and being 
cousins they were quite alike in some respects. 
Each had two feet, two hands, two ears, two 
eyes, one nose and several other features, 
but in almost all other respects they were 
very different. Much was light; More was 
dark. Much was a little bigger than More; 
so that the schoolboys in fun used sometimes 
to call Much “a little More,” and More “not 
Much.” 

Now More had much more money than 
Much had, that is, More’s father had much 
more money than Much’s father had; More 
had finer clothes, more of them, and more 
spending money. Yet Much seemed very 



122 THE GOLDEN GOBLET 

much happier than More. He almost always 
wore a smile. More usually had a frown. 
More always seemed dissatisfied with what 
he had; he always wanted something else, or 
something better. It was “Give me this” 
and “Give me that;” it was “Give me,” 
“Give me,” “Give me,” “Gime,” until the 
boys, half in derision and half in sport, 
called him “Gim Me.” 

Much, on the other hand, was always glad 
for what he had; he always seemed satisfied 
and happy, and he never forgot his manners. 
It was “Thank you for this” and “Thank 
you for that,” “Thank you very much,” 
“Thank you,” “Thank you,” “Thank you,” 
“Thank you,” all the time, until the boys, 
half in admiration and half in fun, called him 
“Thank You.” So it came about that the 
two were called “Thank You” Much and 
“Gim Me” More by all the boys in school. 
They almost forgot their real names, and I 
have forgotten them altogether. 

On the Wednesday before Thanksgiving 
the boys sat at well-ordered desks, waiting 
for the two hands of the clock to climb up- 
hill to twelve, when vacation would begin. 
While they waited, Mr. Master talked 


MUCH AND MORE 


123 


to them about Thanksgiving. He told them 
something of the history of the day, gave 
them advice as to how to spend the day, 
said something about the Thanksgiving Spirit 
and dropped the hint that this Thanksgiving 
spirit was a magician. But the boys’ heads 
were so full of what they were going to do 
when the big hand should catch up with the 
little hand that they heard very little, except 
that he said something about a Thanksgiving 
Spirit and spoke once or twice about a 
magician . 

At last, the clock struck twelve, the gong 
sounded, and the boys scampered and scat- 
tered away like crows at the sound of a 
gun. Thank You Much and Gim Me More 
rode away together in the automobile which 
Gim Me’s father had sent for them, because 
Thank You was to spend Thanksgiving with 
Gim Me at Gim Me’s house. 

Vacation days are very short, especially 
if they happen to be Thanksgiving Days. So 
night came and dinner and then games and 
tales of school, and, before the boys thought 
it possible, they were willing to go to bed. 
That bed was a big, double, brass bed in 
Gim Me’s room. 


124 


THE GOLDEN GOBLET 


The boys undressed, jumped into bed, 
pulled up the coverlets and snuggled down. 

“Gim Me,” said Thank You, after a 
moment. 

“What?” 

“What did Mr. Master talk about today?” 

“I don’t know; he said something about 
the Thanksgiving spirit, I think.” 

“Oh, yes — the Thanksgiving spirit. I 
wonder whether we could see it. They say 
if you shut your eyes you sometimes can see 
spirits. There was a pause, then Thank You 
spoke again. Gim Me!” 

There was no reply. Gim Me was already 
asleep and breathing hard. 

Thank You did not know whether Gim Me 
could hear or not so he continued : 

“I wonder, if we should shut our eyes, if 
we could see the Thanksgiving spirit.” 

No reply, only a snore. 

“I’m going to shut mine,” said Thank 
You, slowly and sleepily. “I’m going to 
shut mine and — and — ” 

“You’re going to shut yours and what?” 

A musical voice came from somewhere. 
It caused both the boys to stir. 


MUCH AND MORE 125 

“You’re going to shut your eyes and 
what?” repeated the voice. 

“I’m going to shut my eyes and — see — 
said Thank You. 

“You’re going to shut your eyes and see? 
That is a most extraordinary thing to do. 
Well, your eyes are shut can you see?” 

Thank You surely could. There upon 
the footboard of the bed sat the healthiest, 
heartiest, happiest and handsomest spirit 
that Thank You had ever seen since he was 
born. He had a long crimson coat that was 
buttoned up with great shiny gilt buttons as 
big as a dollar. The crimson coat was richly 
trimmed with black fur. It was furnished 
with many pockets, all of which were bulg- 
ing; but the biggest thing he wore was a smile. 

“What is your name?” asked the man on 
the footboard, nodding to the boy on the 
right, to whom he had just been talking. 

“My name is Much — T. Y. Much.” 

“T. Y? What does that stand for — 
Thank You?” 

“How did you know?” asked Thank You. 

“I saw it in your eyes. And what is your 
name?” asked he, nodding to the boy on the 
left. 


126 THE GOLDEN GOBLET 

“More — G. M. More.” 

“G. M. — That can’t stand for George 
Washington. Is it Gim Me?” 

“How did you know?” asked Gim Me, 
rather sourly. 

“I saw it in the corners of your mouth,” 
said the visitor. 

“And you are the Thanksgiving Spirit,” 
said Thank You. 

“How did you know?” asked the spirit. 

“I see the turkey feet sticking out of your 
pockets.” 

“Why, bless my soul, so they are. Yes; 
I have just come from purchasing my sup- 
plies for Thanksgiving Day. I was rather 
late going to market tonight, and I was just 
hurrying home. As I was passing by in my 
aeroplane I heard you talking about the 
Thanksgiving Spirit; so I thought I would 
step in and let you see me, and perhaps sing 
you a song if you would like to have me.” 

At that, the Thanksgiving Spirit pulled 
out of one of his pockets a funny little instru- 
ment. He called it “the happy harp” or 
“the happy heart,” I don’t remember just 
which, and as he sang he picked the strings: 


MUCH AND MORE 


127 


“0, I am the Spirit of Giving Thanks , 
Thanksgiving Day is my day; 

Vm not much given to mischief or pranks , 

My way is a quieter way . 

“ ( Tumpety , tumpety , tumpety tump.) 

“They make great dinners to eat in my name; 

They gather the family clan; 

They heap up the table , and say what a shame 
They cannot eat more than they can. 

“ (Tumpety, tumpety , tumpety tump.) 

“ There's turkey and chicken — and goose if 
you wish — 

Potatoes and parsnip and rice; 

There's jelly and cranberry , dish after, dish. 
And everything else that is nice. 

“ (Tumpety, tumpety, tumpety tump.) 

“ There's pudding, ice-cream and pumpkin pie. 
Mince if you want it, and then. 

If, after all this, you are hungry , — why — 
Begin all over again. 


128 THE GOLDEN GOBLET 

“( Tumpety , tumpety , tumpety tump.)’ 9 

“That is my week-day song. I have 
another one which I call my Sunday song. 
I like it a little better. I sing it to the same 
tune, but I sing it a little slower. 

“0, 7 am the Spirit that maketh glad 
Every house where I lay my head; 

I make much out of little and good out of had 
A feast from a crust of bread . 

“7 teach men to give of what they receive 
To those who have less than they; 

And — would you believe it? — I make them 
believe 

They have more as they give it away . 

“7 live in the cottage; I live in the hall; 

I live on the land and on sea; 

But the place that to me is the best place of all 
Is the place where I happen to be 99 

“This is a fine room you have here,” said 
the Spirit, looking around, after he had 
finished his songs. 

“Fine!” said Thank You. 

“Oh, I’ve seen better,” said Gim Me, 
sourly. 


MUCH AND MORE 


129 


“You ought to see my room,” said the 
Thanksgiving Spirit. 

“We should like to,” said the boys. 

“Well, come with me, then. You needn’t 
wait to dress, that will take too much time. 
Just wrap a blanket around you — a coverlet 
will do. Step right out of the window here, 
into my aeroplane, — the back seat, if you 
please, — and hold on to the braces on either 
side.” 

They got in and whirred away. In no 
time they landed — where, the boys had no 
idea. They could just see that they had 
stopped before a house; they could not see 
very distinctly because it was so dark. 

“Is this where you live?” asked Thank 
You. 

“This is where I live as much as I live 
anywhere,” replied the spirit. “I live in 
many places.” 

“Is this your house?” asked Gim Me. 

“Oh, no, I only have a room here. That 
is a very peculiar thing about me — I always 
live in other folks’ houses and always live 
with other folks. Step right in; I will open 
the door. It is a little dark here; so I will 
strike a light.” 


130 THE GOLDEN GOBLET 

He lighted a candle and set it upon the 
table. They could then see that the room 
was very small and very bare. The. Thanks- 
giving Spirit sat down on a sofa that stood 
beside the table and motioned to the boys 
to sit, one on either side of him. 

“This is a pretty small room,” said Gim 
Me, critically. 

“Small?” said the Thanksgiving Spirit, 
“Why, I think it’s big; it’s big enough for 
me.” At that, the walls and ceiling began 
to move, going farther and farther away 
until the room was like a great reception 
hall in a lordly mansion. 

“You have a pretty small light there, 
rather dim,” said Gim Me. 

“A small light? Dim? Why, it seems to 
me it is very bright; it’s bright enough for 
me; I like it.” And then the little white 
candle grew and grew and grew and grew 
until it became a great, big, white, shiny 
marble, pillar, surrounded by wonderfully 
brilliant electric lights. 

“I should think,” ventured Thank You, 
seeing but a few books on the table, “I 
should think it would be better if you had a 
few more books.” 


MUCH AND MORE 


131 


“Books? Why I have all the books that 
I can read and more.” And at a wave of his 
hand there sprang up bookcases, grand 
mahogany bookcases, filled with books, all 
around the room, from window to window. 
Then the boys knew that the Thanksgiving 
Spirit was a magician after all. 

“Now, that you may have something to 
remember your visit by I want to give each 
of you one of these,” said the spirit, as he 
reached across the table and out of a little 
box took a silver ring. 

“Here is one for you, Thank You,” and 
he put it on Thank You’s finger. 

“Oh, thank you!” said the boy. At these 
words, the silver ring turned to gold. 
“Thank you very much!” A diamond came 
right out of the middle. Then Thank You 
could not say another word, he was so 
surprised. 

“And here is one just like it for you”; 
and the Spirit slipped one on Gim Me’s finger. 

Gim Me looked at it a minute and then 
said, “Give me a gold one.” At that the 
ring turned to brass. “I want a gold one, 
like Thank You’s.” At that the ring turned 
to tin. Then for fear it should vanish 


132 


THE GOLDEN GOBLET 


altogether Gim Me put his hand into his 
pocket. 

“And just so that you may know when 
Thanksgiving Day comes around I will give 
you this,” said the Spirit, and he handed 
Thank You a fine silver watch. 

“Oh, thank you!” said Thank You. At 
that the watch turned to gold. “It is beau- 
tiful sir!” The face became so shiny that you 
could see what time it was even at midnight. 

“Thank—” 

But the Thanksgiving Spirit raised his 
hand so that Thank You could not say 
another word. 

“And here is one just like it for you,” 
said the Spirit as he handed Gim Me a silver 
watch. Gim Me waited a minute to see if 
it would not grow and become like Thank 
You’s, but it didn’t. 

“Give me a nicer one.” The watch 
stopped ticking. “One like Thank You’s!” 

Then — would you believe it? — the watch 
shrank and became as small and light as any 
watch that you can buy at the stationery 
store for five cents. Before it should dis- 
appear entirely Gim Me thrust it into the 
pocket of his pajamas. 


MUCH AND MORE 


133 


“Now, we must eat our Thanksgiving 
dinner,” said the Spirit, “because when the 
light comes I shall not have time to stop to 
eat.” 

He led the way to a corner of the room 
where a small table was set for three. The 
boys had never seen a Thanksgiving table 
like that one in their lives. There were 
three slices of bread, very small slices, too, 
and three pieces of cold meat. 

They sat down. Then the magician bowed 
his head and said, “I thank Thee, Lord, for 
all the bounties that Thou hast sent to us.” 

Then the boys’ eyes almost popped out of 
their heads. For the three slices of bread 
grew into a great, beautiful, white, flaky 
loaf of bread, and the three bits of cold 
meat grew into a great, stuffed, steaming, 
turkey. Dishes of vegetables and salads and 
sweetmeats sprang up all over the table, so 
that there was scarcely room for them all. 

The magician carved the turkey. He 
placed upon one plate a thin slice of white 
meat and a drumstick and handed this to 
Thank You. 

“Thank you very much,” said Thank You. 
At that, the slice of white meat grew to a 


134 


THE GOLDEN GOBLET 


great heap and in place of one drumstick 
there were two. 

“Thank you very — ” 

The magician raised his hand: “Don’t 
say another word, but eat, or there won’t 
be room on the plate for the vegetables, 
and the gravy is dripping on the doily now. 
And here’s a slice, and a drumstick for 
you, Gim Me,” said he, as he placed the 
turkey on Gim Me’s plate. 

“Give me more white meat,” growled 
Gim Me. “I like white meat best.” As 
Gim Me spoke, the white meat disappeared 
and the drumstick was traveling off the 
plate so fast that Gim Me stuck his fork into 
it to hold it. 

“And now it is time to go,” said the magi- 
cian after a while, rising and buttoning up 
his great crimson coat. “I must empty 
these pockets of mine or many a poor family 
will not have any Thanksgiving dinner. I 
am going right past your house and if you 
wish I will take you home. Just wrap your 
coverlets about you and jump in.” 

In less time than it takes to tell you, they 
were back again and in the great brass bed 


MUCH AND MORE 


135 


that stood in Gim Mes room. The Thanks- 
giving Spirit pulled the coverlets up and 
tucked them in. 

“There,” said he, as he made ready to go, 
“you have had your trip and are home 
again, none the worse for wear, and I hope 
you will have a happy Thanksgiving Day.” 

The whirr of the aeroplane, I suspect, or 
possibly it was the rumble of a passing 
trolley car, disturbed the boys. They sat 
up, opened their eyes, and rubbed them. 

“Well, did you see the Spirit?” asked 
Gim Me. 

“Sure!” said Thank You, happily; “did 
you?” 

“Sure,” said Gim Me gruffly. 

And that is all they ever said about their 
visit to the magician’s. That is, that is all 
they ever said to each other about it. 

Thanksgiving Day came and went. Many 
Thanksgiving Days came to them and went. 
The boys grew to youth, and from youth to 
manhood. Each had his own home. Mr. 
Much never became a rich man. He had 
great misfortunes and many losses; but he 
always seemed happy for what he had left, 
and people used to say that Mr. Much was 


136 


THE GOLDEN GOBLET 


as happy as if he was the wealthiest man in 
town. 

Mr. More became a very rich man. He 
had a beautiful home and all the pleasures 
that folks seemed to think he could desire. 
Yet he always appeared unhappy, dissatis- 
fied, discontented. Folks said he was always 
so anxious to have more that he could never 
really enjoy the much that he had. 


Felix, The Wise Man 





































































Felix , The FFise Man 

From an ancient time , long , Zorcgr agro, 
IPAen angels spoke to men , 

^4ncZ spo&e Zo them as I speak to you. 

And men spoke back again , — 

V 

When men believed the angels, too , 
they believed their eyes , 

There comes a tale that I tell to you 
Of Felix , called the Wise . 

ELIX was the son of Peter, 
the shepherd. That is, Peter 
had been a shepherd and had 
led his flocks all over the 
beautiful grazing country un- 
til he grew tired of this wander- 
ing life, found a good woman and married her, 
and built him a neat little cottage far up 
on a slope of Lost Valley. It was called 
Lost Valley, possibly because it was so long 




140 


THE GOLDEN GOBLET 


before it was discovered, possibly because it 
was so far away from everywhere, possibly 
because so many men were lost in the deep 
ravines that led into the valley and in the 
deep, blinding snows that fell there every 
winter. 

Here in Lost Valley in the grazing season 
Peter tended his sheep. As soon as his two 
boys, Johann and Felix, grew big enough, he 
used to take them with him to the fields and 
lead them over the hills. He taught them 
much about the warnings of the winds and 
the flight of birds and the movement of the 
stars as he tried to answer the many ques- 
tions they used to ask him: 

“How do you know that it is going to 
rain?” “Why do the wild geese always fly 
in the shape of a letter V?” “Where do the 
stars go in the daytime?” 

It was Sunday evening before Christmas, 
and a right frosty evening it was, too, in 
Lost Valley. The cold nipped your ears like 
pincers; the stars shone as bright as chil- 
dren’s eyes. But it was very warm and 
cosy inside the cottage of Peter the Shepherd. 
Peter and his good wife sat one on either 
side of the open fire of blazing beechwood 


FELIX, THE WISE MAN 141 

logs. Johann sat between them. A lamp 
stood on the table, and underneath the 
lamp, with his arms outspread on the great 
Bible, Felix was reading the story of the 
wise men: 

“The wise men came from the East to 
Jerusalem, saying, Where is he that is born 
king of the Jews? For we have seen his 
star in the east and have come to worship 
him.” He read the story clear through: 
“And they offered unto him gifts, gold, 
frankincense and myrrh.” 

“Father,” asked he, “who were the wise 
men?” 

“They were astrologers, my son; they 
studied the stars and knew all about them.” 

“And they were rich men, too,” said 
Johann, “very rich. They had gold and 
things that cost much gold.” 

“But we are not to forget,” said the 
mother, “that they were generous, for they 
took their gold and frankincense and myrrh 
and offered them to the king.” 

“Father,” asked Felix eagerly, “are there 
any wise men now?” 

“Yes, I suppose there must be.” 

“Where are they?” 


142 


THE GOLDEN GOBLET 


“They live chiefly in the great cities and 
in places of learning.” 

“Did you ever see any around here?” 

“I saw one once. He came and stood 
upon the hill behind the house and looked 
at the stars through his telescope.” 

“What did he look like? Did he have 
white hair and a gray beard and did he wear 
glasses?” 

“I don’t quite remember, my son, but I 
think that he did.” 

“Oh, I’d like to see a wise man!” 

“Well, it is time that both of you were 
going up the ladder to bed. Your eyes are so 
nearly shut that you couldn’t tell a wise 
man from a woodchuck if you saw him.” 

Up the ladder they went to their little 
attic room. Johann and Felix said their 
prayers: Felix added a sentence to his 
prayer that night: “And I would like to see 
a wise man if there is one anywhere 
around.” 

They jumped into bed. As Felix lay on 
his high pillow, with the comforter drawn 
clear up over his chin, he could just see out of 
the little window of one pane. Right in the 
center of that one pane shone a bright star 


FELIX, THE WISE MAN 143 

that he had seen over and over again as he 
lay upon that high pillow. He watched it 
and watched it until his eyes were almost 
shut. Then a strange thing happened. The 
star came nearer and nearer and nearer, and 
grew larger and larger and larger, as it came. 
It came right through the little window-pane 
and stood over him as he lay upon his bed. 
Then it seemed to unfold and what had 
seemed to be a gleaming star was a bright 
face, and it spoke to him gently: 

“Felix!” 

“Who are you?” returned Felix. 

“I am the Christmas Spirit.” 

“Why did you come here?” asked Felix, 
half afraid. 

“I came to answer your prayer.” 

“What prayer?” 

“Why, don’t you remember? — the one 
that you made just now — that you might 
see a wise man.” 

“Are there any wise men now?” 

“I understand there are some.” 

“Do you know them?” 

“Yes, I know all of them; I make them.” 

“You make them? What do you make 
the wise men out of?” 


144 


THE GOLDEN GOBLET 


“I make them out of wise boys some- 
times.” 

“Is there one near here?” 

“There is one coming, I believe.” 

“Where does he live?” 

“That is a secret.” 

“Why don’t you tell me?” 

“Because each one must find him for 
himself.” 

“But I do not know the way,” said Felix. 

“I will tell you the way,” said the Christ- 
mas Spirit. 

“ There is a golden pathway 

That leads to the wise man's door; 
There are golden stepping stones , and 
Beyond , a golden floor . 

“ And this golden , gleaming pathway 
Is not so hard to find; 

It lies over streets and ledges 
And lands of every kind . 

“It winds and winds through the forest, 

It lies upon the moor. 

And if you search the stream beds 
You 'll find it, I am sure . 


FELIX, THE WISE MAN 145 

“And when you find this pathway 
Of smooth and glassy floor , 

Turn either left or right hand — 

It will lead to the wise man's door .” 

He turned to go, but paused. 

“I almost forgot, — one thing more.” 

“If you fail to find the pathway , 

With its golden , gleaming floor , 

I will come some time to guide you , 
Myself , to the wise man's door." 

Then the bright face became a star again 
and the star glided out of the window, and 
sailed farther and farther away until it stood 
just a little above the horizon. Felix looked 
to see whether he could see it at all. He 
rubbed his eyes; there was no star. Instead, 
the big, broad sun shone full on his face and 
woke him up. 

It woke Johann, too. Felix told Johann 
in great excitement what he had seen and 
heard during the night. 

“It was only a dream,” said Johann. 

“It was a vision,” said Felix. 

“It was a dream,” repeated Johann. 


146 THE GOLDEN GOBLET 

“No. It was a vision,” said Felix stoutly. 

“What is the difference?” asked Johann. 

“Well,” said Felix, “a dream is a dream, 
and a vision — a vision, — a vision — is not a 
dream.” 

Just then came the call to breakfast. 

For many a day Felix and Johann searched 
all over that country that they might find 
the golden pathway that led to the wise 
man’s house. They clambered over the 
ledges, they wound and wound through the 
forest, they patiently followed the stream 
beds, they searched the acres of the moor; — 
but they could not find the golden pathway. 
Once they saw something yellow high on the 
mountain side, but when they climbed to it 
they found it was only a streak of yellow 
sand. They saw a gleam one evening across 
the valley, but their father said it was simply 
the light of sunset reflected on the ice- 
covered snow, and even while they looked, 
the golden gleam vanished. Once they saw 
a tall man with gray beard and big glasses 
come up to the hillside beyond the house 
where their father had seen a wise man, and 
they were sure they had found him at last. 

“Are you a wise man?” ventured Felix. 


FELIX, THE WISE MAN 147 

“No, my boy, I am not,” returned the 
traveler. “I know very little. But I should 
like to be a wise man.” 

As the months passed by, the boys came 
to the conclusion that perhaps after all it 
was a dream that Felix had had, and not a 
vision, and they never would see the wise 
man nor find the pathway that led to his 
door. 

Years passed and the boys grew to youth. 
Years passed again and Peter and his wife 
took their long journey beyond the clouds. 
The boys became young men. Johann, who 
loved money, went to the city to make his 
fortune, but Felix stayed behind in the house 
of his good old father, Peter the Shepherd, 
and here he lived alone. 

Yet he was not alone. The door of his 
house was always open. There was always 
a warm fire for the half-frozen traveler, 
there was always food for the hungry man, 
and shelter and clothing and a bed for the 
wanderer who was lost in the darkness or 
blinded by the snows of Lost Valley. 

But that is not all. Felix was a kind of good 
angel to all that valley. He went from house 
to house to help any who needed help. All 


148 


THE GOLDEN GOBLET 


over Lost Valley could be seen the tracks of 
Felix. The people called him, Good Felix. 
He had his regular route. He wound his 
way down through the forest to the house of 
Alec, the Woodsman; he followed the stream 
bed to the lodge of Jason, the Hunter; he 
climbed the ledges to the hut of David, the 
Goatherd; and then he traveled home across 
the moor. 

Day after day he went his round; night 
after night he swung his lantern along the 
well-worn way. And never did he go empty 
handed. “Just a sweet,” he would say, 
“for Alec’s children,” or “Just a bite for 
Jason’s family,” when the hunting was poor, 
and “Just a bit for David, the Goatherd.” 

And every Christmas eve Felix would carry 
a bag of toys, — the funny toys of all sorts 
that he had made with a sharp knife while 
he watched the sheep in the summer time. 

There were dolls with a smile that wouldn't 
come off , 

Ships with rudder and sail , — 

Horses and sheep and pigs , and cows 
With horns and hoofs and a tail; 


FELIX, THE WISE MAN 149 

There were lions that had both might and 
mane , 

Camels that wore a hump , 

Dogs that barked and kittens that purred 
And mice that would make you jump . 

And with this bag full of toys he made his 
round every Christmas eve and left some- 
thing for every child in the valley. 

Now and then came news from Johann in 
the distant city where he had gone to make 
his fortune. People said that he had grown 
to be a very rich man; that he knew how to 
make much money and how to keep it, too. 
And there were some who shook their heads 
and said what a pity it was that Felix had 
never been wise like his brother Johann and 
gone to the city, where he might have been 
just as rich as Johann. 

Sometimes Johann came to the valley. 
When he did, it was to chide Felix because 
he gave away so much of his little store. 

“You are very foolish, Felix,” he would 
say; “you should keep that money for your- 
self; you may need it some day. You 
should think and care more for yourself and 
less about others.” 


150 THE GOLDEN GOBLET 

But Felix only shook his head and smiled 
and continued to go his way, down through 
the forest to the house of Alec, the Woods- 
man, up the stream bed to the lodge of 
Jason, the Hunter, over the ledges to the 
hut of David, the Goatherd, and then home 
across the moor. 

But there came a Christmas Eve when 
Felix could not make his journey. His legs 
had grown very weak; he could not carry 
the bag of toys which he had made with his 
sharp knife. His brother came to him from 
the city and sat with him by the old blazing 
fireplace. And the valley folks, to whom 
Felix could not go, came to Felix. There 
was not a house in all Lost Valley that did 
not send its word of greeting, or some 
delicacy for the sick man. 

One by one the people said “Good night” 
and Felix and Johann were left alone, 
gazing into the golden depths of the blazing 
beechwood fire. 

They talked of the old days, of their 
father, their mother, the Christmas Eves of 
long ago. 

“Do you remember,” asked Felix, “do you 
remember the time when we used to look for 


FELIX, THE WISE MAN 151 

the house of the wise man and for the golden 
pathway?” 

The brother nodded. 

“Ah, what fools we were!” laughed Felix. 

Then Felix dropped his head and smiled as 
if he dreamed. His eyes were half closed 
and yet he could see. Through a little 
window of one pane, by the chimney, he 
could see the star over in the east as he 
used to see it when a boy. It came nearer 
and nearer, growing bigger and bigger as it 
came. It came right in through the center 
of the window-pane and stood before him. 
Then it unfolded into the bright face he had 
seen once before. 

“Felix,” said the visitor, smiling, “do you 
know me?” 

“Ah, I know you well,” replied Felix. 

“Have you ever found the wise man?” 

“No,” said Felix, “but I am very happy.” 

“I have come to keep my promise.” 

“Your promise? What promise?” 

“That promise I made you long ago; don’t 
you remember? — 


152 


THE GOLDEN GOBLET 


4 If you fail to find the pathway 

With its golden , gleaming floor , 

1 will come some time to guide you , 

Myself , to the wise man’s door’” 

“You are too late,” said Felix, “my legs 
are weak; I can not travel.” 

44 1 will help you,” said the visitor. 

“Is it far?” asked Felix. 

44 Not far. Put on your jacket and your 
greatcoat; lean on me and give me the 
lantern.” 

They walked out through the door, which 
they left ajar behind them, down the step- 
ping-stones, along the pathway. They 
had gone but a few steps when Felix 
stopped. 

44 1 can go no further.” 

44 There is no need,” said his guide, 44 we 
are there!” 

44 Where?” asked Felix. 

4 4 At the house of the wise man. See!” 
said the guide as he swung his lantern along 
the path that led to the door. 44 See the 
golden pathway!” 

44 This is only the path that my own feet 
have made,” said Felix. 


FELIX, THE WISE MAN 153 

“Even so,” said the guide, waving his 
hand. “See!” 

And then it seemed that every way that 
Felix had taken, every path that he had 
made, leaped into radiant, golden, sunny 
light. Down through the forest to the house 
of Alec, the Woodsman, up along the stream 
bed to the lodge of Jason, the Hunter, over 
the ledges to the hut of David, the Goatherd, 
and back across the moor to the house of 
Felix, lay this beautiful, shining, gleaming, 
golden pathway. 

Felix could not speak; he and the visitor 
turned. 

They walked up the golden pathway 
That led to Felix's door; 

They stepped up the golden stepping-stone, 
And in on the golden floor . 

Felix sat still a long time in the chair, 
gazing into the golden depths of the blazing 
beech wood fire. 

Not long after, the house of Peter the 
Shepherd was vacant forever. Someone pass- 
ing by a few days later saw a tablet upon the 
door. No one knew who put it there, but 


154 


THE GOLDEN GOBLET 


many said that it was Johann, and this was 
what it said: 

THE HOUSE 
OF 

FELIX, THE WISE MAN 



















































. i 















































































' 

















